A Tale of Two Spies
by AfroSamurai98
Summary: Meet Richard Castle. A highly skilled assassin, he is the man who moves in the shadows to get the most difficult of jobs done for the U.S. government. To some there is no one that can match his ability and skill. Except for one. Kate Beckett. An assassin just like Castle and just as deadly. However, she has gone rogue. Castle's new mission: Bring in Kate Beckett. Dead or Alive. AU
1. Chapter 1

**Summary** : Richard Castle is the bringer of death.

A highly skilled assassin, Castle is the man who moves in the shadows to get the most difficult of jobs done for the U.S. government. He's the best and the one called upon to eliminate the worst humanity has to offer.

To some there is no one that can match his ability and skill. Except for one. Kate Beckett. An assassin as well who has come the closest to match Castle in terms of lethal prowess and getting the job done. However, she has gone rogue.

The government is now scrambling to get her back by any means. They bring in Castle. His mission if he chooses to accept it: Bring in Beckett. Dead or Alive.

But things aren't always what they seem and soon it becomes apparent that a powerful force is in motion and Beckett's betrayal was for a reason which could bring about massive shock waves throughout the entire world.

 **Disclaimer** : Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer:** This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

He almost felt a sensation of joy by the death that had taken place in front of him. Or was about to take place as Josh Davidson adjusted his Bluetooth device in his ear. The computer screen he was staring at had become dim so he moved his mouse that brightened up the monitor and a dull video became clear. It revealed a situation that he wasn't facing but rather the agent a thousand miles away in the Middle East.

And he was thankful for that because god knows he would just bail on his motorcycle and run forever if it meant escaping the fate some of the agents have had to face.

Thousands of miles away there was someone lying down on their chest with a sniper rifle pointed at a certain individual with Josh getting the best view of the house. Well, a video feed with a Starbucks coffee in one hand but minus the grueling heat and the magnitude of killing a very important political figure on foreign soil. Like many others the agent on his headset had been trained to human perfection and was made into a machine capable of taking down an entire army base single handedly. His Bluetooth device buzzed which meant that the agent on the other side was about to talk.

Josh Davidson was currently in Washington D.C. In an office with four walls and two huge windows overlooking the street that led to the White House about seven miles away. It was a cloudy day but specks of sunlight were still hitting the street and the building he was in really didn't stand out from the rest of the neighborhood. It was an eight story building made of brick and in a neighborhood that consisted mostly of old houses and buildings from the 70s in desperate need of restoration. "Make the outside look humble because the inside is what matters the most at the end of the day" is what the architect had in mind thought Josh. As from the outside the building looked ordinary but on the inside was a building fitted with the most modern tech known to man and security that could potentially rival the toughest guarded state secrets. Finger print scanners, retina scanners, body analysis cameras, and armed guards on every corner were some of the security that Josh was aware of. Only the people at the top knew what else they had up their sleeve.

He took a small sip of his coffee in which a large amount of sugar and caramel had been poured into. He knew it was bad but some days he just had to drink it in order to function right. He wasn't exactly watching a TV show where he could just relax and watch the story unfold but rather he was in charge of an operation that could shape the foreign policy of the United States.

He hit the speaker button which allowed him full voice access and said, "Black Panther, location please. Establish satellite connection."

Some days he sounded like a 911 operator while on other days he would just say the word execute and the deed was done.

His Bluetooth came to life almost immediately. "Black Panther reporting. Approximately four hundred yards away from Canon on the fourth floor looking out on the third window from the right facing east. Please access the camera on the side of the building across the street and you should see a muzzle popping out."

Josh went to work and hacked into the camera feed and sure enough there was a small muzzle popping out of the window overlooking the city that was home to many of the enemies of the free world. The particular rifle was handcrafted by engineers to shoot from distances of over two hundred yards depending on the skill of the person.

As if this very moment no other better person could be operating that rifle.

"Confirmation received, Black Panther. All conditions look normal. The rifle is ready I assume?"

"As always, Lector Two. The target is on scope. All escape routes fully analyzed. Suppressor is a go and the sun behind me and shining right on their faces. No shine from my end to detect a sniper. All is set."

"Roger roger, Black Panther."

Josh looked at the time at the bottom of his screen and said, "Local time is up to date. No further updates on the intel either. You're good from where we stand now."

"Fully noted, Intel looks solid from my end as well, Lector Two."

Josh dragged the file with all the mission dossier and maximized it on a secondary screen to his right. "No further intel received. Intel is the same as before. Target will arrive on scene in a matte Range Rover and will stop approximately 10 feet from the entrance. Media will delay his entrance by 15 seconds and he will then walk on. 20 seconds in total.

"20 seconds walk thru is confirmed. Natural variables taken into account. No chance of rain or sandstorms?"

"Roger that," said Josh. "If the interview lasts long. Proceed without caution."

"Roger that, Lector Two."

Josh kept refreshing all his feeds and information docks for any changes but everything remained the same till he saw it. "Black Panther, Range Rover is approaching slowly to the Red Carpet."

"Visual confirmed. Line of sight established with target. No obstruction of view either."

"Crowd is getting rowdy. Should the source move back the crowd further?"

"Crowd has been there for a while. They are swaying towards the curb and away from the middle of the carpet and media. The path is already dotted for the target and in line of fire."

Josh zoomed in on the Red Carpet and sure enough there was a dotted line illuminating a path towards the entrance.

"Confirmed, Black Panther. You're set for now."

Some of his fellow workers might not agree with him but he loved having the eagle's eye view of these missions. He felt like a human god almost but without the actual guilt of killing someone. He was never in danger of his life as the person on his Bluetooth device took care of that for him. Sometimes all of this didn't add up but he never really delved deep into for he valued his sanity more.

His life wasn't on the line but rather the almost terminator of a human being on the other side. He never truly could comprehend why they do it. As a failed mission meant getting a bullet to the head and no one would notice. The thing about these hitmen and hitwomen was that they had no identity in real life. No tax filings, no receipts, no bank accounts or a family for that matter. The worst scenario maybe that the shooter gets caught and makes the national news but he would still be beheaded as the US would not acknowledge his or her existence.

Meanwhile, back in Washington, Josh sat comfortably in his leather chair with one hand on his mouse while the other occupied his coffee.

At the end of the day the fact was that a lot of people could shoot a gun with enough practice but he had the expertise to carry out all the necessary intel and locations on potential target. He was worth protecting and pay big money for.

Josh looked at the video feed of the local Arabian channel and sure enough the target was there on time.

"Visual confirmed."

"Reconfirm before you shoot."

"Roger."

It was as though he was playing a game as he tightened the grip on his mouse. He had been an analyst for a while now and had gone up through his time as a drone pilot. It was borderline exhilarating for him push a button and see a target go up in flames.

As the seconds passed by ever so slowly his own breathe started to increase. His heart rate went up but he knew the shooter on the other end was as calm as humanly possible considering the circumstances.

Finally the convoy came to a halt and the armed security guards opened the car doors. Muscular, bald headed, and cruel looking men looked for any danger with guns holstered at the ready in their hands. They looked professional but the shooter assigned this mission was on another level. They never stood a chance according to Josh.

He had lost count on how many shooters and agents he had sent out on a mission but he trusted every single one of them. He trusted the system that had raised him.

The target got out of his car and the sun shined on his glasses revealing a gruff looking face with a reasonable amount of sweat. He was nervous and it showed. The target was a dictator by the name Samoor Ali who had a dream that saw him lead an already troubled nation down an even disastrous road. All the allies did not agree with that and the threat of a nation going under was not going to happen.

This is where Josh and his agents came into play and put this problem to bed as quickly as possible. Other willing candidates had shown their desire to run the Middle Eastern and their views aligned with the rest of the modern world. Influencing those candidate would not be a problem so that meant more allies in a region full of turmoil. It was worth the risk.

But almost none of this concerned Josh. He was an analyst for one of the most covert agencies in the US and this was his job and he had to execute it.

His Bluetooth came back to life, "Almost time."

"Roger that, Black Panther. Take wind pressure into account," replied Josh. Many would say good luck after that but in this line of work almost all of it had nothing to do with luck.

He set off his countdown timer and saw the local reporters try and get in a question. This was a good thing as it meant more time to line up a perfect shot.

Josh watched closely as the target dragged on his answers. He took a bite of his half eaten donut but his eyes never left the video feed. Ali then stepped back and started waving at some people he called "dream fans". The security got tight and together dragged almost all the reporters and crowd to the edge of the curb.

What they didn't realize was that a sniper was locked in on the head of the dictator.

Soon the twenty seconds walk came and then it became ten.

Few seconds remained but Josh's eyes never left the screen and locked eyes with the target.

He had an uneasy feeling that he almost knew death was upon on him.

 _Death is upon you my friend_ , thought Josh. _You had your fun_.

Mission accomplished would be the words he will typing soon and then onto the next one.

But first he had to treat himself to a bike ride home and a dinner which consisted of the highest quality meat and some wine.

Seconds went by.

One second remaining.

Josh was locked in. Almost nothing could break his concentration. His hand hovered over the left mouse button as though he was going to take the shot.

A loud shattering noise burst through the room as the window behind him destroyed itself.

The bullet entered the back of Josh's head after it sliced through the pillow he had set up on the top half of his chair. It cleared his skull in one go and smashed into the screen right into the virtual face of Samoor Ali.

The target walked right into the building without harm and a smile on his face.

Josh's head slumped onto the keyboard and slid down slowly.

There will be no bike ride home.

No dinner.

Only an autopsy of an agent killed in the line of duty.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

He walked along a curved pathway in a park with a backpack hanging on his shoulders. It was about six in the evening and around him the city was preparing itself to go home and call it a day. Cars were buzzing by and people were walking their respective paths home after a long day at work.

He was just across the Hilton hotel where the front entrance was lined with horse drawn carriages and some town cars as well. Men in top hats awaited people to get onto the carriage and be on their merry way. The horses were busy eating their fair share of food as the light around the city started to welcome the night.

This was Manhattan. Or a depiction of the city that perfectly blended the past and the present.

Richard Castle walked straight ahead without paying any attention to things that would be a distraction. New York was like a second home to him and Central Park was his personal play ground as a child.

He wasn't here to visit anyone. He wasn't here as a tourist and go sightseeing. He almost never went anywhere as a tourist anymore.

He was wearing a hoodie and a baseball cap with glasses on. He blended in perfectly with the evening rush hour crowd and none of them could recognize his face. He wanted the privacy because the surveillance cameras in Central Park had increased since 9/11 and it was easy to get caught in one of them if he wasn't careful.

He steadied his pace as he approached a small bridge and then started to jog. He took of his glasses so it didn't look too weird. A man jogging with glasses on in all black clothing could be red alert to many. But remove one of the accessories and you are perfectly normal. At least he hoped he was.

Nearly half a mile later he reached a door which was built into a rocky structure.

It was locked.

He pulled out a device which he inserted inside a keyhole and a few seconds later the door opened itself.

He observed his surroundings and slipped inside. He closed the door and it was a dimly lit room with electrical components lighting up the room with red and yellow lights. There was a sign right above a storage unit which read power room and Castle assumed this was a room used by the city electricians. It was the end of the day so he didn't expect any of the workers to make an entrance.

Plenty of time for him to get what he needed done.

He opened the bag he had been carrying over his shoulders and inside contained the necessary tools he needed.

Castle had recently turned the age of thirty five. He was about six feet two, 185 pounds, with more muscle than fat. But not huge muscles as they were useless in his line of work instead he had finely tuned muscles to maximize efficiency and speed.

He pulled out numerous pieces of equipment from his back pack and the next five minutes he spent combining those pieces into one like a Lego piece but with deadly results.

A sniper rifle.

He pulled out the last and the most important piece from his bag.

The scope.

It was a military grade scope that was not available to the public and he quickly attached it on the top of the rife.

He went over the mission details and intel over and over in his head. So much so that he had lost count on how many times he had gone over them. If he had to guess, almost thirty times and it was a necessary precaution as the plan was to shoot a certain individual and then make an exit that was already in place for him. Memorization was one of his best skills and he had come to a point with this assignment to where he didn't need to think but just act it out. This saves him precious time, seconds but that is all the difference between life and death.

The entire "make a rifle inside an electrical storage room" took about thirty minutes. He had already ate dinner at a diner called Remy's. He liked their burgers and crowd was bearable too. He had then drank an entire jug of water and ate a small chocolate bar for desert.

That was an ideal dinner for Castle and it was a Friday night so he was basically on a date with himself.

His mind came back to the storage room and laid down on the storage floor which was surprisingly warm but it was still a hard floor. He put his head on the bag pack and then went to sleep.

His internal clock was still working and he calculated that in approximately 9 hours and 20 minutes he had to get back up and go to work.

He thought about the people in the city his age and it was becoming a habit now that he was middle aged. He was at a time in his life where many other folks his age were busy having dinner with their kids while some were going out with their coworkers and see what the city had to offer. And here he was.

Richard Castle. Laying down in a storage closet waiting for someone to come by so he could take their life. He could be having an existential crisis in his life right now but he had a choice. He can simply not acknowledge it and ignore it till it's an afterthought in his head.

He fell asleep soon after and almost 8 hours later he woke up without a hitch.

It was six thirty in the morning and the next few hours will be the most important if the mission was to be successful.

He opened up his bag again and pulled out a granola bar and started eating it. In front of him was a stone wall. The storage room was a small area with four walls and the stone wall Castle was facing had two holes in them that barely anyone could make out unless they were looking for it. The holes were big enough for Castle to look through but from the outside it was hard to make out as the sun was hitting the storage room at an angle making the wall seem perfectly normal.

Castle slowly positioned his rifle towards the holes and inserted the muzzle inside the second hole and stopped it right at the edge of the hole. This was a severely complicated setup from a shooting point. But only this angle was possible to get the best possible shot and if he was being fair he has had worse spots. Almost none of the spots he had before this mission were perfect. It was part of the job and he had to deal with it.

He lined up the scope with the first hole on the top and through the scope he could finally see the outside. Castle went into his pocket and checked all necessary data such as weather and wind conditions that would have a potential impact on his shot.

He checked his watch. Less than 7 minutes remained.

He put on a small earpiece and clicked it once and he was live.

He checked his scope again hoping no large groups of people would show up in front of his target.

Taking into account all the variables Castle would literally have seconds to take the shot before the target would be out of position and he had to pull the trigger just in time so he doesn't hit any pedestrians.

If he shoots late then the target would run and come out alive.

If he shoots early the result would be the same.

It had to be a perfectly timed and that's why he was here. He hadn't failed once.

If he had then he wouldn't even be alive much less be in this current situation.

He took a deep breath and thought about controlling his muscles and amount of air he took in every time he breathed. Usually there was someone working with him but he worked alone now. Partners slowed him down and he didn't need to worry about keeping them alive either.

He had been in his agency long enough to choose not to work with anyone except an intel handler. He chose to go solo on this one. His handler was talking about natural variables and escape routes if the target didn't not show up or escape.

He looked around the storage unit again and thought to himself that this would be his home for a few more minutes. He would never see this place again if he succeeded or it would be the last place he sees if the mission were to fail.

Castle checked his watch again and only two minutes remained. He stood down but kept his rifle in place. Holding a weapon too long makes muscles tire and vulnerable to mistakes.

Fifty seconds remained till the target arrived so Castle got into position and looked through the scope and placed his finger on the trigger. His earpiece went silent. Radio silence before execution. No more updates. This meant the target was on its way and the mission was given a double green light. It was up to Castle now to not mess up.

His internal clock slowly ticked towards the time of arrival. He focused his scope as clearly as possible.

Scopes were one of the greatest things to be invented when it came to artillery according to Castle. Without a scope almost every mission would fail and the target would get out alive. Although he had counter measures in place if the mission was on the brink of failure. Always keep a Plan B.

Twenty seconds remained. He controlled his air intake and relaxed his muscles as much as possible. Zen state was what he was looking for as it insured the right time when you pull the trigger. Nothing left to luck.

Castle couldn't hear his target communicate. He didn't see him yet either

7 seconds remained.

Seconds to find the target and pull the trigger.

Four seconds remained in his internal clock.

His finger hovered over the trigger and pulled it.

The world Richard Castle was in there was no going back after that.

* * *

The target was walking at steady pace alongside his security so he had no worries to be out in public like this. In his line of work worrying would weigh you down. But he was not a wise man. He had made enemies and giving them a single chance could be fatal. He had made enemies by breaking promises, selling secrets to the highest bidder, and the worst of all, at least to Castle, human trafficking of children. The time to pay for those crimes had come and Castle had the weapon of justice in his hands. Literally.

The target had an above average height so that meant his body was easily distinguishable and he started to jog moving up and down and paying no attention to his surroundings. His security was responsible for that. His security wasn't a cake walk either. Two men lean muscular like Castle and on a constant watch while keeping up with their boss.

Three other men followed behind them covering every possible blind spot. They were all in black running gear and they were situated strategically so any possible shooter would have six targets instead of one. This made whoever might be attempting a long distance shot job a nightmare with so many variables working against them.

To make things a bit more complicated the target was wearing a vest inside which could stop a rifle bullet. So that meant only a bullet shot to the head could get the job done here. However, a long distance head shot was terribly difficult for even the most experienced shooters without a spotter. There were too many variables working against you to take the perfect shot. Plus the targets liaison had undercover people in the park itself so anyone with a gun would be quickly spotted and taken care of immediately. The security were on high alert as they kept moving their heads in every possible directions for threats.

The target kept moving at a rapid pace and soon there will be a curve coming his way. This made Castle's job harder as any change in direction would be missed shot. The security saw this as an advantage and eased a little. No capable shooter would risk a shot here.

The suppressed bullet was loud enough to scatter a flock of birds and fly away in the distance. Their beaks protruding sounds of protests to be disturbed this early.

The target In the middle of the group suddenly stopped abruptly and once where his face was lay a vast gaping hole made by an 8.00 round bullet. The bullet with immense energy and power could break through trees and the result of hitting a human face would be ugly to say the least.

The security watched as their boss fell to the ground dead in disbelief. Their boss was now puddle of blood and brain matter. Castle's Bluetooth came to life and reinforcements were on their way. The reinforcements were to act out revenge rather than protect.

The target was now Castle.

The only problem was they didn't know who the exact person was they were after.

They were sure it was a scope kill but from where did the shot come? There were hills in the park and they were surrounded by trees and the curve they were on was protected as well by several giant trees.

The only people who could've possibly taken out their boss were the morning walkers and joggers. No way could they conceal a rifle that big. The security all gathered around the body and looked at the horror scene in front of them. if they had known what their boss was actually killed for they might be relieved rather than in a state of disbelief.

Richard Castle had no time to admire his handy work. The enormity of the shot he had taken was huge and it was many ways a game of tag mixed with hide and seek. In this scenario had to do his best to hide himself.

However, Castle had almost 17 years of experience and even more with a sniper rifle. He knew his target today was not a small person in the chain of evil so the pushback would be immense and with a lot of bullets.

With the backpack on his shoulder, Castle started to disassemble his rifle piece by piece and started to walk. There was manhole in the center of the storage room. The manhole connected the Central Park humongous tunnel system with most of the cities underground system including the subway system.

Lowering himself into the hole he put the manhole cover back into place and slid down the ladder and hit solid ground almost twenty feet later. He switched on a flashlight and moved forward into the tunnel knowing fully well where it went. In his briefing he was reminded to memorize the ground plans of the underground system so he had an idea where he was supposed to go. One could say that he could have written it in down but when you work for the most secretive agency in the world nothing was written or saved.

If Castle was proud of one personal trait it was his memory but remembering the tunnel system was harder than he thought it would be. Especially now that he was here in person.

He moved strategically through the maze at a steady pace. The rifle that he shot his target with was now in another tunnel being washed away somewhere in the Eastside river. If someone were to find it they would have a terribly hard time finding whose it was as Castle had made sure to destroy parts of it.

He made sure the rifle was split in half and each piece was thrown in separate tunnels so that no left no chance of identification. The agency he worked for required the utmost secrecy and safety of their intentions so no plan was safe enough. Castle had to say that the smell in these tunnels could make people faint as they were the combination of the sewer and street water system. To say it was unpleasant would be an understatement. Castle continued to soldier on despite the smell and after an hour or so came across a ladder with the sign "(: YAW SIHT PU" next to it.

Reading the sign backwards revealed the phrase "Up This Way :)". He was not intrigued by this by any means. He had just taken a life no matter what his target was responsible. There is a time and place for jokes and this wasn't it.

He noticed a yellow jumpsuit and a safety helmet next to it and put both of the clothing attire on himself and proceeded to go up the ladder till he emerged from the manhole.

Taking in his surrounding he deduced that he had walked all of the Central Park and Midtown to almost the upper side New York underground. Subway would have been way better.

He accessed a construction site where other workers dressed exactly like him were busy working on a pipeline underneath the street. The worksite had blocked off one side of the two way street and traffic moved along with people buzzing by busy on their phones.

Life always moved on despite obstacles.

Except for the man he had executed.

The workers were busy digging up the street for the pipe to be laid so they paid no attention to Castle and he didn't give them any either. There was a black van parked next to an Italian restaurant and Castle quickly walked towards it and got in the passenger seat. As soon as Castle closed the door the driver put the van in drive and drove off into the traffic. There was little communication between them and the driver took the fastest routes towards LaGuardia Airport.

A few minutes passed and Castle slipped into the back of the van to change and soon the van had arrived at the airports departure area. Castle slid open the van door and emerged in a well-tailored suit with small travel bag in one hand. Confident in his look he walked straight into the airport terminal.

LaGuardia Airport was used by many people for short flights to neighboring states while it's counter JFK airport was used for international and coastal flights to farther states such California and Texas. Castle was on a short flight to D.C. and it was short enough that he would have barely enough time to settle down and wait for the food to arrive because you had heard a family member spout the rumor to not eat anything before a flight.

The flight lasted thirty eight minutes and touched down at the Reagan Airport.

He went through the usual post flight ritual every passenger goes through and got outside the airport where a car was waiting for him to arrive. He got into a car and picked up the newspaper laying down on the seat next to him. He went through the headlines in the entire newspaper and there was no mention of it.

 _Probably be on twitter._

He guessed that tomorrow the leading headline would be about his target and how he had been brutally shot down by an unknown assailant. Castle knew that few number would remember the dead man for how he was a virtuous and humble man. Those would be the people that the dead man had served to his own grave and hopefully all the deeds that have bought immense pain on legions of people. He was thinking of the children the dead man had sold to the streets and it was a dark wish but he hoped that at least one of the children would read the headline and recognize the face. And hopefully find some sort of solace in the fact that he was dead.

Castle was responsible for many deaths before. Mostly the most evil and corrupt people possible but like always there was someone else to replace that person. Maybe the human race was destined to be stuck in this cycle of evil replacing evil. He didn't know the answer but the least he could do was erase parts of the evil.

This morning was more crisp and cleaner than in recent times. More people were out and about in Central Park and his trigger had led to a bloody death. Investigation will surely take place. A manhunt if they find something feasible. But they won't. They almost never do when his agency is involved and the truth about the dead man will come out and everyone will forget that a shooter even existed in the first place.

Life would proceed. Like it always does.

Castle was a servant of his country and he would pull countless triggers if it meant the security of this country and one less evil person. He would put his life on the line again and again. This was his job. His livelihood. The sun would shine again the next day and it would seem as though some one had used the reset button in a game and it was back to square one. But he would persevere and challenge himself to beat any monsters that threatened the existence of peace, or what is left of it, in the world he lived in.

Fifteen minutes had passed and the car he was in drove on weeding through the streets of D.C. towards the edge of Virginia. They reached a metal gate and Castle got out of the car and walked through a door that was situated towards the left edge of the metal gate. He walked through a corridor and went through checkpoints without any credentials or permission.

He reached a room which had a computer inside it where he would send the necessary files and then he would be off to his apartment in the middle of D.C. It was the norm for him to walk or run for hours before his mind forced his body to relax and recuperate. This was the only way apart from therapy that could make him feel whole or as a human being again and deal with the reality of his existence.

But not today.

Today he wanted to go straight home for once and just sleep or play videogames or better just read a book and escape into the world that wasn't his.

But not today.

A man had walked into his room.

He had a USB in one hand and Castle knew what that meant.

It was another mission.

This greatly displeasured him for once. He had just ended a two month mission and he wanted a little rest.

"Victoria Gates wants to see you personally," said the man in a monotone voice.

In all his years only a few things surprised him when it came to dealing with people in his agency.

This was the biggest one.

Castle had only seen and talked to Gates a hand full of times.

The last time he saw her was almost nine years ago.

"Gates? You sure about that?"

"Yes. The car is waiting for us. We must leave now."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

Katherine Beckett was sitting in a lounge chair with a grey tank top and a black pantsuit. Currently she was in an airport lounge and in the process of getting out of her heels and into flat shoes. She wore heels majority of the time but sometimes you need to be level with the ground if you wanted to move fast and increase your flexibility.

The only thing that wasn't normal about her appearance was the hat sitting on her lap. It was a black panama hat and the only reason she had it was that it wasn't too inconvenient and tourists loved them. Beckett had accumulated a lot of travel miles through the years but never had she worn a hat in all those trips.

But today seemed like a good day she took up hats as a necessity in her daily attire.

She turned her head to the right and saw dozens of people rushing towards their respective terminals carrying laptops bags and coffee cases in one hand. Many were gathered around the huge screens that displayed the terminal their flights will dock in and any cancellations that have taken place. Perhaps minutes or hours later the passenger would walk through a tunnel shaped like a tube and thrown into the sky thousands of miles into the air with their bags and hopefully somewhat of their sanity.

This was same procedure followed by millions around the world in nearly every country and Kate had been doing it for years as well. Like many business oriented travelers she always traveled light but without a laptop. She kept enough clothing to last a few days and a paperback novel to pass the time. In her line of work nothing went with her. In almost every scenario the work was waiting for her alongside the necessary equipment as well.

Every single time she left a place, there would always be death left in her wake.

She took out her phone and unlocked it which revealed a small message icon waiting for her to click. It was an electronic boarding pass and the name was not Katherine Beckett. But rather a different name because any use of her given name wouldn't be an ideal situation for her especially during this particular time.

Her last mission had gone terribly wrong. Well, only in the eyes of her previous employer. In her eyes she had executed her personal mission perfectly. She had left a man named Josh Davidson dead inside a building which boasted security of the highest order.

Because of her actions Kate assumed that she was now the most wanted person in the covert world of spies. The agency will do whatever it takes to bring her in dead or alive for what she had done. They would surely call upon their best and order them to hunt her down and end her existence just like she had Josh's.

The plan to kill Josh, however, was not what Kate had in mind for her grand self-given mission. So, she had to go out of her way and find a new name, new creds, and of course a panama hat. Her hair was now dark brown and before that she was a blonde and that was quiet a weird look for her. But she had to for the sake of her previous missions. Dictators had a thing for blondes apparently. She had hazel eyes and had gone through surgical procedures on her face to become a whole new person.

She was a new woman. But a woman enlightened with information that has changed her life.

For better or worse she doesn't know.

The speakers came to life and her flight number was called. She got up and even in her flats she measured at five feet ten inches which was above the average for a woman. But she blended in perfectly with the crowd and she then put on her hat, bought the strongest coffee, and then walked to her terminal gate. The flight had arrived on time and was ready to take on passengers.

An hour later she was in a bumpy ride which bothered other people but Kate was used to it by now. She always played the odds and she knew that right now she could fly for the rest of her life and still have a better chance at survival than if she were on ground.

The plane landed and she walked off towards the check in area where got in line with a number of people who were already in front her. During her wait her mind went back to Josh Davidson who had been the first one on her list. The list kept going through her head and each name would be added to the list of dead and join Josh in the afterlife. Kate didn't believe in the afterlife but sometimes she wished for it to exist just so people like him could enter and suffer.

The people in the list had to wait for now. Because something else required Kate's attention.

She hailed a cab and gave directions to the driver that led to the city. It would be an Uber but she couldn't trust any sort of technology right now.

The cab traveled for several miles before it arrived at Beckett's location.

Central Park.

It was busy place to be at right now as it boasted full of people, dogs, and small events of various types. It was a controlled chaos environment if there was such a thing.

She paid the cabbie his share and swiveled her head around towards the park's entrance. She walked through the entrance and went towards the location where it had taken place.

The area had been sealed off by the police with tape so they could collect whatever evidence, forensics, and hopefully get a clue about the killer.

They won't find anything.

She knew that but she doubt the NYPD did.

There was a crowd people surrounding the crime scene and Kate joined them shoulder to shoulder and made sure her face was obscured by the cameras. She watched as the crime scene investigators worked in a robot like manner covering whatever they deemed noteworthy around the body.

Beckett observed the ground where the dead man had fallen and felt no remorse. The man deserved to be dead and deserved no sympathy.

But it didn't interest Kate at all. She had killed her fair share of monsters and she knew there was always someone to replace. That's just how the world worked. The only thing you could do was keep ahead of the evil.

The real reason she was here was for something that the police couldn't see.

She observed the white lines that had been drawn around the dead body and projected where the shot could have come from. Looking at the police movement in the park she assumed the police had already done that. But looking at the faces of the police she deduced that they were hitting a dead end and even their imagination would be reaching a limit. Therefore reaching the early stages of a cold case.

She didn't blame them. This was the work of a highly trained professional.

But for Beckett nearly everything was possible in this scenario. She put her mind into hyper drive and thought about every single possibility about where the shot could have come from. Her eyes fell on a stone wall which looked like an electrical storage room and she assumed that no one could shoot through that wall. The door looked secured enough that no one could pick lock it and police probably didn't even give it a second thought.

Kate broke away from the crowd and walked towards the storage room. It was long walk but she stopped about 60 feet away from the storage wall and took out her binoculars.

She focused her lenses on the wall and visualizing the room from the inside and she concluded that the shooter would need two holes if they used a rifle. One for the muzzle and other for the scope. She also knew how big the holes needed to be.

She clicked a button on her binoculars and they zoomed in even more revealing the fine grain material of the storage wall.

She observed the whole wall for a few seconds sure enough there were two holes that had been plugged up by mortar seems.

No detective would see that because they won't even look for it in the first place.

But here she was. She had found the vantage point.

She looked around the storage room and noticed there were no cameras around the vicinity. There was no point as it was just a wall.

Which made it a perfect vantage point.

The mortar seems that had been placed on the holes were a different color but not enough for them to seem out of place. However they seemed fresh and Beckett knew there was a man behind that wall with a rifle only hours ago.

The shot came in the morning and the two holes were filled soon after. The seams would do their jobs and harden around the holes and take shape of the wall and soon become one with the rest of the wall. There would be slight difference in the beginning but give it some days and it would look like nothing had been altered.

The shot had definitely come from there.

The escape route was probably within the storage room as well.

She looked at the ground.

Pipes. Big ones ran through the city for miles.

She knew Central Park had a huge tunnel system which connected the city's sewer, water, and subway system. This was a fact she knew of by memory. She had used the system for one of her kills not too long ago. New York City was one of the largest cities in the world and it provided assassins with so many escape routes. Down in the tunnels you could be alone with your thoughts while millions walked above you. It was a lonely place almost as if you were on a different planet.

The shooter in this case would have probably exited miles away from here through another manhole and get up to street level where a quick ride through the airport or train awaited them.

The shooter walks away without a scratch.

The persons target to the local morgue for an autopsy.

In another life she would've made a great detective.

The newspaper would run the story for a while and there would be some bullets fired and people being moved down the chain but the story would die. Most did these days where a new story always took center stage. The death of one person meant almost nothing. Especially if that person wasn't well known.

Planet earth had become too big. Humanity had suffered and watched too many violent deaths to focus on one.

Kate walked towards a hotel where there was a comfy bed waiting for her. She would hit the gym an hour or so later to work out the stress in her body, take a hot shower, and then lose herself to think about what was to come ahead.

Her trip to Central Park had not been without purpose.

Richard Castle was one of the best. The best if she was being honest with herself.

Without a doubt in her mind she knew Castle had pulled the trigger in Central Park. Only he could cover his tracks so well. Moved underground, take a flight home, and then checked in with his handler.

This was a routine people like Castle and Kate were used to. This was their world and life.

This _was_ her world. But not anymore. Not what after what she had done.

Not after taking the life of Josh Davidson. The only report they would want regarding Kate would be of her death.

And she knew who they would sent.

A natural born killer like herself.

It took a killer to find one.

Castle V Beckett.

She liked the sound of that.

Many would pay to see a fight like that. And she would make sure it would be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

A thunderstorm had suddenly popped up and the rain came down in drones during Castle's ride to an unmarked location. The room he was in right now didn't have a window but he still heard the drops hitting the roof. He assumed it had gotten cold as well, sparking the inevitable winter season upon the north east.

Castle was seated in a chair with his hands rested on the table and was staring blankly at Gates.

He knew Gates wasn't her real name and he didn't ask for it either the previous times the two had met. The only thing he knew and referred to her was Gates and he was going to stick with that. Gates was a woman with a high position in the government and in a circle where the most powerful politicians and military personnel resided. There were more powerful circles but not many.

Gates had aged like fine wine but the stress on her face was still pretty obvious. She was in her mid-fifties with long black hair, squared rimmed glasses that reached the edge of her nose, and a tailored suit to complete her professional look. She had a string of medals and pins that adored her chest which screamed to anyone looking that she was a powerful individuals with experience.

Gates and Castle had come across each other before and their relationship was set in stone. He trusted her completely and in his world that was scarce. There were only a handful of people that he trusted and she was one of them.

"So, Kate Beckett?" said Castle.

Gates looked up from the documents she had been reading and nodded.

"So it was her that carried out that shot."

"Josh Davidson was her handler. They were assigned a mission and instead of Samoor Ali, Josh is the one in a grave. We examined the vantage point in the Middle East and she had paid someone to set up a fake dummy and rifle. It was all a ruse."

"Do we know why she went after Josh?"

"Nothing yet. Only that she has gone rogue."

"Do we have the evidence that she did it? Maybe she's dead too and someone else pulled the trigger on Josh."

"We examined the audio log and it was Beckett's voice. She had taken the shot from over four hundred feet in an old house that overlooked the agency building." She paused and took a sip of her coffee. "We have taken shot analysis and it could have only been her."

"No bulletproof windows? How did you guys miss that?"

"Being installed as we speak. Josh's windows like all the other windows were covered by blinds and there is electronic surveillance as well. Kate…Beckett had to know the layout of the room and its location to take the shot. You will be shooting blind without those variables."

"The old house she used. Was there any residue left behind?"

"Nada. She left the place spotless."

That was Kate. He would have done the same he thought. They had been trained to do this. Don't leave anything behind.

Gates looked down at the documents again and started tapping her fingers on the table in sync with the rain lashing outside. "Any past relations with Kate?"

Castle nodded. This was a question he was expecting from the very beginning and replied, "We started and came up the agency ranks together. We were assigned a mission together as well. But you already know that."

"What do you think about her?"

"Not very vocal. Always seemed lost in her thoughts which was fine with me because I was the same way. The mission we were assigned went pretty well if I recall correctly and she was good enough that I didn't need to cover my back. After that she was assigned A1 level missions from what I heard."

"That she did, Mr. Castle," nodded Gates. "But, not after this. It's a shame really. She's the only female to operate in the field for us in history."

"Gender is the last thing you worry about when you are out there," replied Castle. "It's not exactly a 'let's be friends and be golly' exercise. If you can shoot under pressure you get the job done."

"What else can you tell about her?"

"We barely shared any personal details about each other," said Castle. "Professional behavior through and through. We weren't exactly in an army base where we get to bond with each other. We both knew it was a temporary situation that wouldn't last."

"How long has it been?"

"About seven years I think"

"Was there anything that bothered you about her? Perhaps her loyalty?"

"No. I mean we barely confided in each other so I wouldn't know where her loyalties lay."

Gates nodded in agreement.

Castle folded his arms and asked, "So why am I here? Is this an intel session to get anything on her? I have given you everything."

"Not the sole reason you're here," said Gates. Her eyes were observing him in a way that even creeped Castle out. She was dominant force and she showed it.

There was a knock on the door and a man entered the room.

Victoria Gates was near the top of the chain but the man who had entered outranked her enough that even Castle was slightly shocked to see him here.

Dick Coonan was the number two man in the agency. He was right under the head of the CIA. He was usually the one that testified to congress, made appearances at political parties, and did the D.C. business to get the necessary budget.

He was currently in his mid-forties but to Castle he looked much older. Leading a covert agency took years out of your life and it showed. He had been a relatively fit individual but over the years he had let himself go. He was developing a bald spot and his skin showed a lot of wear and tear due to the sun. He was in the navy in his early years where your skin became a mold that even your loved ones barely recognized you. Castle was a little taller but Dick still seemed bigger.

Castle's eyes shifted back to Gates who locked eyes with him and nodded in confirmation.

Coonan sat down in a chair next to Gates and unbuttoned his suit around the middle and sat back in his chair. He rubbed his face and cleared his throat and said, "So I am guessing you know what this is about?"

"Mostly with bits missing," replied Castle.

He had never communicated with Coonan before. He didn't feel intimated even though he presumed Coonan wanted him to be. He had face monsters who had thrown grenades at him and threatened to cut his fingers off. He was immune to intimidation by now.

"Katherine Beckett," said Coonan. "What an absolute shit show."

"I have told Gates everything I know about her but I doubt it will be of any help."

Coonan started to pick his nails of all things and he noticed that his nails were the size of a peanut. He was biter. Castle didn't feel easy knowing this man was the number two in a covert agency built around secrecy. But he acknowledged the fact that the man was filled with tension and probably received reports daily that would make a man go crazy. The world was usually on an edge barely hanging on from the abyss.

"We need to bring her in," said Coonan. "I don't care if she is alive or dead. Prefer she was alive though so we can see what got into her."

"I suppose you have a plan in place to do exactly that," said Castle.

"You're the plan, Castle," said Coonan combining his hands and putting his head on top of it.

Castle's eyes darted right back to Gates even though Coonan was the one who wanted the attention.

"You want me to go after her?" asked Castle in a semi confused tone. For some reason he hadn't thought of this possibility yet.

Killer vs killer.

"Yes, Mr. Castle. You're the one chosen to bring her in by any means," replied Coonan.

"I am not an investigator or a detective for that matter," said Castle. "I don't deduced. I execute."

Gates was the one to speak next. "I, for one, disagree with that assessment."

"It's simple. We send a killer to find another killer," said Coonan.

"I am positive that I am not the only one on the payroll for these kind of jobs," Castle said in response.

Coonan then started to bite his middle finger and said, "You are the best according to some."

"Why? What did I do that made you pick me?"

"You just came off a mission if I am not wrong so you're obviously in the zone to figuring out where Kate is," said Coonan.

This was the first time Castle had uttered this phrase ever since he had joined the agency, "Do I have a choice?"

Coonan looked at him directly. "Is there a problem?"

"I really don't think this is the right type of mission for me. Despite how you perceive me skill wise."

Coonan then took out what looked like an iPad mini and unlocked it to view a document that he started to read.

"This is why we think you're the right man for the job. You were first in your class with marks that we haven't seen to this date. Come Beckett and she broke the record you broke but finished only a few points behind," said Coonan, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"I understand but even so—"replied Castle but stopped when Coonan raised his finger pointing towards him to shut up.

"I think you may remember the mission we had assigned you both and before that mission we gave you a practice mission to hunt each other down."

"With all due respect that was a long time ago and it wasn't exactly the real thing."

"Alas we must not forget that you saved her life once."

"Why does that matter?"

"Think about it Castle," replied Coonan. "She might remember the fact you saved her once and not shoot you if you were to find her. That's literally all you need and secondly this is a direct order so you can thank me for even sitting here and explaining it to you."

Coonan got up from his chair and buttoned up his suit. "Keep me updated at all times." He looked at Gates first and then towards Castle. "I must stress Mr. Castle. Failure must not be an option."

"Failure means death I presume?" said Castle in response.

Coonan looked at him with a blank stare as though Castle had said the most obvious thing in the world. He then proceeded to exit the room and left Gates and Castle alone to figure things out.

Gates looked at Castle in a nervous manner who was still looking at the door. Castle then turned his attention to Gates.

"You knew about this?" Castle asked knowing what the answer was.

"Yes, I did indeed"

"Care to share your thoughts?"

"I think you are the ideal candidate for this job, Castle."

"Tell me straight. Dead or alive? I need one not both. That's not how I work."

"I think you know the answer to that," replied Gates. "We can interrogate her then and ask why she was the one to go rogue on us and that's a first for us."

"That's not true and you know that. We are well known as an agency with people who have multiple agendas."

Gates could not fault Castle for thinking that way because it was true.

Past few years had been turbulent to say the least. She wondered if this is what the cold war was like.

You couldn't trust anyone.

Castle seemed agitated by this because none of this made sense. When you barely had any intel on your target you might as well pray to Jesus for a miracle.

"You think she was turned? Working for the Russians? She killed Josh so we know she's gone off the deep end. She can't come back anymore and has some valuable intel as well. Does it make sense now?" said Castle in an incredulous tone.

"It makes sense because it happened and now we must deal with it."

Castle looked down at the table in front of him and said, "Josh is dead. Beckett's gone. She has intel that she could sell or join someone. Unless there's another reason. There could be others that could have done this."

"It was her voice, Castle. We cross referenced it ten times with every database."

"There must be another reason."

"You have the green light from us to explore that reason, Castle."

"I can't say no to this mission?"

Gates raised her eyebrows in a way that told him his answer.

"Her last mission was in the Middle East. The target is not dead. Have you considered that it might be him pulling the strings?" asked Castle.

"Yes, of course I have. But the thing is that Samoor Ali is not the one who could turn someone but I don't want to assume too much."

"The Russians and Chinese won't be happy with us playing pick and choose with political candidates in foreign countries."

"If the assassination were to fail then the blame wouldn't be on us. We had a failsafe for that."

"If Samoor Ali had died then what was to be done to cover the whole thing up?"

"By the books procedure. We blame it on the opposition and they take credit too. They would seem credible too. I mean they have already tried twice to kill Samoor and there would've been evidence left behind that would trace back to the opposition too."

"So make both parties seem like power hungry folks."

Gates nodded in agreement. "It was a big mission that would have taken down two parties and given rise to a third one that was at least willing to talk to us."

"None of that is happening now I guess."

"You are right."

Castle stood up from his chair and said, "Give me everything you have on Beckett."

"Her entire existence is being put together on paper as we speak."

Castle just responded with a slight nod. On the inside he was getting all sorts of warning signals going off.

"What did you think of Beckett when you spent time with her? Be honest."

"I have said everything I know."

"I want the Rick version not the agent Castle version."

"She's good. Really good. Probably better than me. Passionate would be the word I use. And I know she kills people for a living but she has a good heart. I will find out how good she is and knock some sense into her."

Castle started to walk towards the door when Gates spoke up, "We are having the worst luck these past few years, Castle." She paused and then proceeded, "We get the monsters but they keep coming back."

"Can't deny that."

"More years you put into this field the more you get noticed and then get hunted," said Gates in a somber tone.

"You could say the opposite. The more you put in the more valuable you're."

"You're right in that regard but at what cost, Castle?"

"You're not being hunted are you Victoria?" asked Castle in a serious tone. Gates would be last person he would suspect that would be corrupt and if she was being hunted he had to know. She had saved his ass plenty of times.

"No more than you're being for how many lives you and I have taken."

They looked at each for a few seconds before he turned around and exited the room to begin his new mission.

 _Where are you, Kate?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

With a manila folder on the passenger seat and a USB inside his left chest pocket Castle exited the agency building and drove right into the bustling streets of D.C. The USB contained the entire history of Kate Beckett and Castle felt at odds with it. In the past he had been given the exact same USB with the history of all his targets and he didn't feel like it was an invasion of privacy. But this hit close to home. To say it would be awkward would be an understatement but he still had a job to do and to know her past was part of the process of getting her back.

The weather had turned sourer as the rain lashed down on the streets of D.C. while Castle maneuvered the car through the various locations that boasted many famous locations. These monuments were popular targets for the tourists even though most of them despised the political happenings that took place in the city. But they still took pictures next to them with the concept that their own tax dollars went into building them.

The Jefferson, Lincoln, and Washington rose high into the heavens and personified power and integrity despite the dreary weather that surrounded them. The Capitol Dome stood tall next to the monuments and it was home to a congress that went to work on making laws that governed society. These days, however, it seemed they were doing the opposite. The Dome stood tall but even in this weather it seemed like an afterthought. Nature conquered all.

Castle drove on towards North West D.C. till he reached a roundabout by the name Dupont Circle which connected nearly every district in Washington. He lived two miles away from the circle and he had recently moved as well. One of the missions he had been on in the past had compromised his last living location and he had to move on.

Dupont boasted the nightlife many people strived for after work and it was in the middle of the town as well. There were dozens of restaurants, food trucks, book sellers, and retailers which ranged from the middle to high class. These shops were unique to this district and it was a priceless asset to have in a state which hosted the capitol of the US.

Castle was past that type of life. He didn't find it important to chase a night life and the only trips he made were for food needs in his apartment or to buy books for his late night musings. He didn't browse the retailer windows or take a trip down the mall even though he liked to stroll through the streets at night. He didn't need to maintain contact with other people or welcome any friendship either on any level. His life was his work and it had consumed him to a level that he found it hard to maintain a social relevance. Especially now that he was on a hunt.

He arrived in front of a gate that was an entrance to the garage under his apartment and he quickly grabbed all his belongings and went up the elevator to his apartment. He walked to his door which was secured by a keycode lock and also two locks that needed a key to open. It wasn't much but he liked to think his door was secure enough to hold some thief's back or think about what apartment they were breaking into. Or assassins for that matter.

He opened his door and instantly his alarm went off and he pressed the four digits onto a key pad which silenced the beeping sound. He took off his coat and hung it on a hanger and took out his USB. Instead of his laptop he went straight to his living room window and looked down at the street below for any signs of suspicious movement. The rain could wash away the dirt or even sins in a church but some never feel the forgiveness. There were parts of a city which never felt the need to be clean of sins. He wasn't much different either, his job was to navigate the filthiest alleys that governments could conjure up in the name of democracy and power.

In recent years he had tried to adjust or attempt a life of normalcy. But he tried and tried and it didn't stick. He was too stubborn or maybe scared that he might get used to it and eventually become part of a normal society.

But he had met people along his failed journey to inhibit normalcy.

He took a book out from a coffee table and inside lay a picture.

The girl staring back at him was forty years old but in a body of a fifteen year old. Alexis Rodgers.

She was a rather skinny individual with red hair but Castle did not care about that. She was a girl that deserved Castle's admiration. Intelligent, courageous, and determination that could rival confident adults, Alexis was a person that had suffered a lot but she had fought out of the ashes and come out a phoenix.

Alexis Rodgers was a daughter of two parents that had been stuck in a cycle of drugs and debt that came to bite them in the end. The drug lords, her family had owed a considerable amount of money to, were on the list of targets that Castle was assigned. It was a mission that he had a bad feeling about as it meant he had to go undercover with an agent and try and destroy the cartel from the inside. He had met this young woman's family during a routine intel gathering operation and her parents had been crucial in taking down one of the biggest cartel operations in the north east. He took care of them in every way possible and they had gotten comfortable enough with him where they trusted him enough to drop their precious daughter off to school and take care of her during times of peril.

The day came on a warm day in March when the operation Castle had been working on came to its conclusion. With the help of Alexis's parents, Castle's team had gotten hold of a cartel hold out where they kept all their most important meetings. It was the eve of one of the biggest drug bust in US history and on that day Castle had secured more than 15 tons of illegal drugs and the lives of the two most notorious cartel leaders. However, on that day a small girl had lost her two parents as well.

The parents who had confided in Castle, told him information that would bring down an entire organization, and most of all let him in to their lives. So much so that he had built a parental type relationship with their daughter.

Unfortunately on the day of the bust Alexis's parents were there at the holdout and in the very room with the two Cartel leaders. In a last ditch effort to protect themselves they had taken their bodies as shields and before he could tell his snipers to stand down it was too late. It was an operation where the District Attorney had given them the permission to shoot to kill and the officers had obliged.

People kept telling him that it wasn't his fault or the snipers who had shot the bullets that went through the bodies of the drug lords and ha rifled through the parents leaving them in a state which haunted Castle's nightmares to this day. He had held their heads on his lap with their hands held together in a last gesture of unity and love. Their last breathe was spent in them apologizing for what they had put their daughter through and how much they loved her. Their last wish had been if Castle had come sooner in their lives so they could see their daughter blossom into a flower they could be proud of.

After that night Castle was on the verge of a breakdown so bad that he wanted to let go. Let go of his covert life and come to terms with his reality. But he didn't. He stayed in the life he was used to and he knew it was because he was scared. Scared of a life that he could potentially lead that was filled with hope and fulfillment of ones need for another person.

Alexis could have been that ray of hope and to this day he is surprised with himself that he had let someone else in.

Alexis had given Castle this picture of herself during a dinner they had shared quite a while ago and his first instinct was to throw it away. He led a life where he killed the most dangerous people in the world who could take away anything he cared about in an act of revenge. But he had kept the picture. He just couldn't let it go and leave that part of his life.

Castle never had children and probably never will. But if he did then Alexis Rodgers would be a daughter he would be extremely proud of. The problem was that she wasn't his daughter and she had decided to lead a life with new opportunities. A life that she had chosen which he was barely part of. It was yet another reality that he had to come to terms with. She had taken a choice and it was a tough one and he respected that.

He realized that he had been staring at the small picture for almost four minutes and as he was in the process of putting it back, his phone started chirping.

He looked at the caller ID and for the first time in what seemed ages a small genuine smile appeared on Castle's face. His hand hovered over the answer prompt as he pondered whether to even answer the call but he knew if he didn't it would just mean relentless calls till he picked up.

It was simply how she was configured.

"Hello…"

"Castle. Long time."

Jordan Shaw was a special agent who worked for the FBI and who he had worked with undercover during his mission regarding Alexis's parents. Alexis had gotten close with her before and her parents demise and according to her there was no one better than her. She also thought him and Jordan looked cute together. He didn't know what that meant but Alexis was sure about it to a point where Lanie and him had ended up in a diner alone. She had set them up and it was an evening that would go down as awkward to say the least.

In his past there had been a woman, Sofia Turner, who had made Castle believe in the potential love had to offer. But it had ended with him on his knees and a gun on his mantle with Russian language being spoken as the last words he heard. That woman had deceived him in a way that any relationship with a woman was something that Castle ran away from the fastest. He had desires for sure but he couldn't give in for his own safety and he couldn't trust someone like he had Sofia.

He had received training to avoid being deceived in every scenario. Never to be taken as a sucker and a person who got into a relationship that were meant be barren of honesty. Yet he had given in and completely left his fate in the hands of Sofia and he had been deceived. It was an experience that any person who has been left heartbroken would never forget and he didn't want to go through that experience again. Ever, if given the choice.

Jordan's voice hadn't changed at all the last time the two spoke. A little too excited for Castle right now, but he admired how much energy this woman had regardless of the situation.

"Yeah, it has been a while, Agent Shaw."

"Agent Shaw? Castle first name only. You know that," She paused and then continued. "Anyways, where have you been? Traveling again I assume."

Castle didn't respond immediately as he knew she was probably calling about the small event that had taken place in Central Park.

Jordan didn't know the full description of what Castle did as a living but she had put some pieces together when they spent time together undercover. She was an FBI agent and she had taken an oath to serve and protect but she knew there were somethings that she didn't need to be in the cahoots with. They both worked for agencies that revolved around secrecy but they both knew their respective employers weren't friends either. And that policy applied to their employees as well.

"Part of the job traveling and sailing the seven seas, Jordan. What about you?"

"Scouring the streets of D.C."

"So why the sudden call? Need help with finding the Washington monument?"

"You up for dinner right now?"

Again Castle didn't respond immediately and thought about what he was going to say next.

He was so lost in trying to formulate a response that Jordan finally said, "Castle, I am not asking you out or anything. It's just dinner and I wouldn't mind some company right now."

His brain was telling him to say no but yet again he surprised himself, "where and when?"

"Does eight thirty sound good? There is this new place that opened by Gringos." She told him the exact location and the name as well. "I hear their cocktails are out of this world and even POTUS wanted a shot at it."

"Stop lying. You like cocktails that much?" he asked.

"You wound me, Castle. All that time together and you know nothing," she responded in a mocking way.

"Oh, I disagree with that but okay."

"I am in the mood for cocktails."

There was no way in hell Jordan had called because she was in the "mood" for cocktails and he knew she had something up her sleeve. He agreed with Alexis's assessment that she was one of the best but being the best meant that you never turned off.

"I am game," he said.

"Wait…are you serious?"

"Most definitely I am serious, Jordan"

"Well, I am surprised for once," said Jordan.

 _You have no idea_ , thought Castle.

"Any special top secret investigation you're involved with?" She asked. "Just asking of course."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I have my claws here and there. You know the usual."

"That's vague. Being secretive huh, Jordan"

"Tell you all about it over dinner. Or I won't. All depends how good the cocktails are."

"Well, I'll see you then and we will talk about our lives and be sued for treason overnight."

"Sounds like a plan, Castle."

They both ended the call and Castle's eyes looked down on the street again. He saw people buzzing by with couples under umbrellas while some ran to avoid getting wet and cold. The weather had turned even uglier, colder, and darker making the mood of the city gloomy as possible.

He moved through his apartment which measured at twelve hundred square feet and it was mostly a style of a studio apartment. A single bedroom with a bathroom and the most prominent feature was a mahogany bookshelf which almost dominated two whole walls. It was filled with books of all kinds ranging from mystery, non-fiction, and of course his favorite, sci-fi novels. One thing that remained constant and kept him sane was reading and making good food. He was a sucker for both and his apartment made it obvious. There were some pieces of art that adored the wall and his favorite was a one that he had splurged a lot of money for. For some it would be a waste of money but to him it was everything. It was a huge white canvas with nothing but a dark circle drawn in the middle of it and it hung right next to his bed. To him it was a void where anything was possible. Much like a black hole where a whole different reality was imaginable. A reality that he dreamed about through this canvas. Every morning he would wake up and just stare at it before his mind snapped back into reality and many times there would be tears that he would never acknowledge.

His job required a lot of travel around the world and that meant a lot of souvenirs to some. However, almost every time he travelled he would bring nothing back but himself. He only traveled because he had to kill and no matter how much he can justify killing someone it was still taking a life. No postcards, decoration pieces, and clothes from exotic places. Just himself and a backpack of old clothes. That's it.

He decided to take a small nap and then woke up later to take a shower and changed into clothes he considered casual. Looking at his watch he realized he had a few hours to kill before meeting Jordan.

His phone buzzed again.

There was an email icon and he clicked on it. He quickly saw what it was and it sent a shiver down Castle's spine.

 _Apologies, Castle. I did not wish for it to end this way but, alas, only one of us will live and it will be me._

 _I am sorry._

* * *

 **Quick Note** : WHEN WILL THEY MEET? *ANGRY FACES*. I am guessing a lot of you are feeling the same way and I apologize for that. I am trying to keep this story as realistic as possible and for that reason it might take a while for them to come face to face. They will! I promise! I just ask for your patience. Thank you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

After contemplating on what to do next. Castle decided that the next step would be to contact Gates. He forwarded the email to her and then got an immediate response by Gates that a trace had been sent out. It took about forty minutes and the result was what Castle had expected.

Untraceable.

Castle worked for what could be considered the biggest covert agency in the world and for them to not find a trace was definitely a big deal. If Beckett was working with someone then Castle now knew they weren't a walk in the park.

The most important detail regarding this whole matter was that Kate had gotten Rick's private email. Only a hand few people knew about it. Jordan Shaw wasn't aware of it either and he hadn't used it to sign up for a website online either. Gates was probably thinking the same thing as well.

The only thing that made sense was that Beckett had an informant inside the agency. A person who was helping her get information from within. She had probably gotten the info that Castle had been assigned her case. But it had barely been hours since the operation had even begun. This worried Castle as the person inside the agency had access that the only the people at the top had.

Castle went to work instantly and plugged in the USB into his laptop. He opened the file that had Kate's history on it and began to read it. Castle was really impressed from what he saw. Beckett was responsible for some of the highest ranking successful missions. She was assigned missions that even Castle would have had a hard time with and this further proved that he was dealing with someone extremely lethal.

Castle was never in doubt that Kate was a worthy advisory but he had to admit that he was a bit shocked by how good she really was. No wonder she had almost broken his record back in her academy days.

There might be an insider feeding her info which could help her odds in getting to Castle before he did to her. This situation had turned from a storm warning to a full blown category five hurricane that was heading towards the agencies way with full force.

Castle continued to read before he reached what he was looking for. Josh Davidson.

The very person from where all of this had started. The hit was perfectly timed and it looked like a work of a true craftsman. It was a solid plan as well. Get her handler to believe she was half way around the world and then shoot when he has had his guard down and the least worried about outside forces trying to get him.

To pile on the evidence there was a snipers nest that was found in the Middle East and there was a muzzle placed on the window as well to show Josh that she was there. But what Josh didn't know was that there was a sniper missing.

Despite all that evidence it still did not prove that Kate had pulled the trigger on Josh but the email he had just received had to put to ease the doubt that she was in some way involved.

She was supposed to be in the Middle East but instead she was had been in D.C. with her sights set on her handler and feeding him complete BS about the situation in the Middle East. Where things stood as if right now, Beckett being the shooter and going rogue was at good odds and for some reason that troubled Castle deeply. Why had she done it? For what reason? Had her country betrayed her? Did she know something about the agency that he and Gates didn't?

This meant that he had to be somewhere before his dinner with Jordan Shaw.

He practically ran to his car in the garage and punched the gas pedal towards the crime scene. He was staring at the eight story building that housed the agency and the room where Josh had been shot. The room was located right at the edge of the seventh floor. He noticed the window had been replaced with he probably assumed was a bullet proof window now but he doubted that would help ease the tension of his fellow handlers. Everyone was on high alert and paranoid in the agency. Castle observed the surrounding areas of the agency building to better understand where the shot could have come from.

The old house Gates had mentioned that Kate used as a nest was located miles away from the agency. But it was in a location where he could see how she would have taken the shot. It would be extremely tough considering the conditions but the two of them could have handled it with perfection. The old house itself looked like it was on its last legs and could be destroyed any day by the city to clear space for future properties. The area the house was situated wasn't exactly blossoming with life either. It was a dead zone where barely anyone strolled through.

It was a perfect spot for a nest.

Castle decided to explore the nest and went to the house to gain a better understanding just for his sake and visualize what Kate could have done next. He reached the building and noticed it had been secured by the police in a stealthy way to avoid any suspicion. He ducked under the tape and showed a security personal his creds which he approved. He moved forward to the entrance avoiding the shaky points of the half broken porch and entered the premises with a key that he had been given. There was no electricity so he used a flashlight to explore the ground floor of the house and he then moved up the stairs to the room that provided a near perfect view of Josh's office. There was maybe a distance of three football fields (300 yards) between the agency building and the old house which made the shot a bit tricky. But it was Kate. This was cake walk for her.

He opened the window where he guessed she had rested the muzzle on and a chilly wind entered the room making him a bit numb. It was cold enough for him to see his breathe but it was too dark for him to even see what was next to him. The floor creaked beneath him which could have misbalanced Kate and the threat of the floor collapsing was also a possibility.

But everything had gone to plan and Josh had died.

Castle shined his light on the window sill and he noticed that there was dust that had been disturbed. It was the shape of a muzzle or the underneath curve of a muzzle and he looked down on the floor and sure enough there was another oval shaped disturbance in the desert of dust. This was the spot where Kate had placed her knee on and there was bullet discharge that scattered the floor around it. He looked around for a shell casing but he assumed that Kate had already taken care of that. He wondered why Kate had left the disturbances in the dust and he could only conclude that she didn't care if the snipers nest was discovered.

There was a piece of plywood that had broken off the floor and it was in a shape of a small rifle. He picked it up and mockingly situated himself like Kate would have done it and aimed towards Josh's office. Because of the hill the old house was on it made the house a little higher than the agencies building. This was a good thing as any capable sniper would tell you that shooting down on a target was much preferred. If the agencies building been higher or Josh would have been on a highest floor then this particular nest would not have worked.

If this place hadn't worked out then she would have simply found another spot. She wasn't exactly the giving up type.

Castle noticed a crane going up to the agency building and assumed that they were still working at replacing the windows with bulletproof glass.

From the vantage point he could tell that Beckett, or someone else, would have to know the layout of the room so there were no obstructions in the path of the bullet. Head shot, straight through the brain, and onto the screen in front of him.

So from where he stood now, the shot had been fired and Josh was dead. If Kate had indeed taken the shot then through her Bluetooth device she would have heard the window break, the shot splitting Josh in half, and him dying. That would have been her confirmation. It was a nice thing to know when you are shooting blindly out of a window of a broken house.

But the problem was that she hadn't been shooting blind. She knew the handlers office and it was almost never the case that field agents got a face to face with their handlers in their personal office.

Someone on the inside had fed her the info.

Just like his email address.

Who knows, Kate could have been following him this entire time. Or just waiting for him somewhere in the dark knowing that he would show up at the snipers nest.

Castle observed the street below and saw some people running on the sidewalks trying to avoid the rain. People like Castle didn't operate in the open. It was too risky and too many witnesses as well. As he was carefully placing the piece of plywood back on the floor so it won't split in half he noticed something greyish sticking out the sole of his shoe. It was some sort of an item and it had a scent. Then he remembered that coming up the stairs he had heard some footsteps and just assumed that it was the security detail.

There was another noise and some sort of voices that came from the front porch.

He ran out of the room and raced down the stairs. He reached a window by the living room and looked out the front porch. There were some people arguing on the porch and he assumed they were his people from the agency.

However, he saw some people behind them and they were definitely not his agency.

The golden embossed letters on their rain coats made that obvious and huge letters on their backs as well.

FBI.

Then he saw a person who was heading up the FBI crew and he immediately hauled ass towards the back of the house.

He had a dinner scheduled with Jordan Shaw at eight thirty.

He didn't want to meet her here in an old house where Josh's killer had been.

* * *

Even with the old creaking floor Castle made a quiet exit from the rear of the house. He made his way around the house and hid in some bushes that overlooked the front porch from the right side of the house. He could clearly make out Jordan's face and she was in a middle of very heated debate with the security detail from his agency.

Castle quickly pulled out his phone and shot a text to Gates.

Few minutes later he saw the security detail who had been arguing with Shaw touch his ear and then Castle heard him say, "You're free to enter the premises, Agent Shaw. Sorry for any inconveniences. The place is all yours."

Message delivered.

Jordan stopped talking and just stared at the man in front of him. She quickly turned her head to the left and in every direction possible. Someone had disarmed this detail and she knew exactly how that had happened. The place was hers and the order had come from the top. Someone had changed the rules of who entered the house and that person was here.

Castle quickly crawled to a neighboring house and then moved as fast as he could in a ducking manner. He knew that Jordan will send her personal after him and look for who had told the top brass to change conditions put in place for the old house. Castle didn't want to be discovered by Jordan as it would make their dinner a very awkward experience then it already was going to be.

Castle had made the decision to park his car several blocks and he thanked god for that. His natural instinct had come into play and he wanted to do little survey of the area as well. He reached his car and quickly drove off. He dialed Gates immediately who answered back in an instant.

"Thanks for the assist, Castle," said Gates.

Castle responded back irritable, "Jordan and I are meeting tonight and I agreed to it not knowing she was involved. You could've given me a heads up and seeing her show up out of the blue is not the greatest thing to encounter right now."

"Let me assure you Castle that we had no idea she was going to be the one to lead the investigation. The FBI doesn't exactly work on our terms. She's had reasonable success the last year and the Bureau obviously trusts her."

"Exactly how much does the FBI know?" Castle asked. "The agency being outside the old house is a big sign that this isn't a normal murder."

"Castle we couldn't cover up Josh's death. The FBI being involved was inevitable. We need to start here and manage accordingly."

"Tell me straight up. How much does the FBI know, Gates?" Castle asked again.

"Josh was part of the FBI. We don't exactly have an abundance of good handlers but rest assured that they do not know he works for us. The DAA would take care of that."

"Defense of America Agency?"

"Yes, but, he was in the division of Intel Analytics. The Analytics department had leased one floor of the building. It was a good cover. We didn't expect Josh to be shot just to be clear."

"DAA are game?" Castle asked.

"They are essentially a part of our agency and they know there is a bigger picture to this whole mess. And plus Coonan heads them so they have to comply anyways."

"Did they gather the data on what Josh had been working on before he got shot?"

"Ignorance is bliss, Castle."

"The DAA won't have to lie then when the FBI come knocking?"

"The FBI have already come knocking on DAA's door."

"So what's the official response?" Castle asked.

"Josh was in the process of working on some important documentation and was shot by a rogue agent targeting Federal agencies."

"FBI is cool with that?"

"I really don't care if they are cool with it or not," replied Gates. "That's not our concern."

"The FBI doesn't need to know that Josh was the main intel handler and responsible for an almost assassination of a foreign politician."

"Samoor Ali wasn't exactly a politician. More of a tyrannical figure who wanted power. Killing those already in power isn't exactly an easy job or a logical choice for that matter."

"Jordan is going to be relentless."

"She is and will be," said Gates.

"She might touch the fire and come out the other end with the truth."

"Not an option, Castle. You know that."

"We don't run the FBI."

"Tonight is your dinner with her right? What will be the conversation be about?" asked Gates.

"You're asking the wrong person. If I cancel then that would raise alarm bells."

"Do you think she knows you're involved?"

"The very best is what some have described her as. And she has a vague idea what I do for a living."

"Castle that was mistake you told her that much. Not it's going to bite you in the ass."

"Being undercover with someone for that long changes you. I trust her."

"What if she starts asking questions?"

"I'll respond with the answers she wants to hear but with my own spin on them."

Gates wanted to grill Castle more with similar type of questions, but then said, "Where are you with Beckett?"

"Anyway to trace where exactly Kate was leading up to the shooting? Do we know for certain that she was in the country and took the shot? Voice over a Bluetooth doesn't necessarily mean it was her."

This was an investigation that could have national implications so they needed to clear every base and make every point a fact without any doubt.

"Beckett went radio silent after the shot. Only Josh had some sound movements and that was his head hitting the keyboard. Her voice over the headshot means she's involved one way or another."

Castle pondered for a while and asked, "The snipers nest in the Middle East. Find anything there?"

"Nada. We do have visual confirmation of her being there two days before Josh's death. Plenty to set up a fake nest and real one in the old house here in D.C."

"Anything on Samoor Ali?"

"He's going about the usual. The snipers nest is taken care of, of course, and there is no hint of an attack."

"You guys planning on another one?"

"To be honest even I don't know. We need to take care of this mess first and find out what exactly happened. If Samoor was involved then he knows we will retaliate and he'll probably have an army for his personal security in response."

"Beckett has my email address."

"I don't like that either, Castle."

"Possibility of a mole is higher now."

"It's possible. Or she probably found out about it herself. She has the smarts."

"How did she know that I was the one assigned to her case?"

"Probably a guess. We only send the best after all."

"Kate might be right behind me hiding in the shadows."

"Don't be paranoid Castle. You're the last person I hope that doesn't go off that deep end."

"That boat left ages ago and you missed it. My livelihood is based on paranoia."

"So where are you going now?"

"Prepare for dinner."

Castle said his goodbyes and then gassed the car. He checked his rear mirror for any sign of Jordan, Kate, and any other killer women.

 _I am not paranoid_ , thought Castle.

 _Not paranoid. Not me._

 _Nope._

 _I am paranoid._

 _Shit._

He accelerated harder.

Sending him, a trained assassin, after another killer was actually the perfect idea.

We both see the world differently. As a place where a different realty exists oblivious to normal people. No one could understand the world they operated in.

It worked both ways. They were in each other's minds trying to figure out their next moves. He wanted to be in her body. Her blood that ran through her veins. Completely embody her and then bring her in.

Either one of them was going to die.

Kate.

Or him.

It was simple.

But complicated as hell.

* * *

Kate Beckett was currently sitting on her bed in her hotel room with papers almost everywhere on the bedsheet. She was covered in sweat as she had just finished with her workout before she decided to head up to her room and work on some intel. She was naked and looking at her knuckles with an instinctive stare. Thunder boomed outside her room as the rain lashed down on the windows of the hotel.

The rain drops sounded like bullets but raindrops didn't leave behind dead bodies.

She stretched her arms over her head and then placed hand on her flat stomach to practice breathing exercises. Over the years she had crafted her body to survive any sort of ordeal and that meant tip top condition that could rival professional athlete's physiques. Her core was excellent and it helped her achieve flexibility that was inhumane at times.

At times she had wanted to forget and chow down on some burgers but she didn't give in. Instead she restrained herself to a single cheat day where she literally ate anything she saw in her sight and this ritual occurred every two weeks. However, there were two things that she couldn't give up no matter what her diet called for. A bear claw and coffee were heavenly to her and started her mornings perfectly. She had trained herself in Mixed Martial Arts that were worth learning and had increased her lethalness in closed combat.

All the work on her body had saved her life countless times and survived ordeals that would be deemed death bound. A gun wasn't always present in her arsenal as sometimes her target would be right next to her and she would have to deal with them accordingly. They were always men but it didn't matter what gender they were. The result was always the same.

Up to this point in her career she had obviously come out on top. But tomorrow was a new enemy. More powerful and more than lethal than the previous targets. In the world she lived in you only live once. No second chances because no one would safe you.

You went into this career knowing the end will be your death.

She had already sent Castle a message and contemplated whether to send another. She decided against it. It would seem too desperate and another message would be too risky as well. Her cell was untraceable but she was dealing with a very powerful agency. They had channels even the FCC didn't know existed and they could use those to track her down.

There was nothing left more to say. She had said what she needed. Castle had received his mission and he would do his damn best to achieve success.

Both of them were on a path destined to meet. A fate where one of them met their maker and she had to make sure it was him. She knew it wasn't fair and she would hate herself for the rest of her existence but it needed to be done.

Beckett put on a silk robe and walked to a table that was underneath the TV. She picked up her phone and began to type something on the keyboard. The time had come where smartphones dictated people's lives and she was amazed by what technology was capable of. Both good and bad. Bad being these devices were walking traces and good being that it told you where exactly a location was. With one press of a key she could gather huge amounts of information in a few seconds.

There was always a con to a pro in almost every scenario in life.

All this freedom but there was a price to pay.

Nearly all people owned these devices which meant unlimited eyes spying on you without the consent of the user. This made walking down the street a troublesome prospect for Kate. She didn't know what the agency was capable when she was the one being targeted. But a job being harder didn't deter Kate but rather in a twisted way made her even more energetic.

She read every bit information that she had looked up and then locked her phone. She put it inside in a cloth where the phone would only receive wifi signals and fry the cellular signal. She took of her robe and headed into the shower. The hot water pierced her skin but it felt good especially after the intense workout her body had been put through.

During her time at the hotel gym she had noticed a few young guys doing weights and trying their best to get a sneak look at her. Another guy had put in twenty minutes on the treadmill which meant he was a stud. Obviously. She had gone to a neighboring room which was separated by a glass and began her exercise regimen and soon the staring had begun. She wasn't exactly in tight clothing and she preferred baggy attire during her workout. She was there to train her body not find a potential life partner or a one night stand.

She caught them staring which made their heads turn quickly in embarrassment. They weren't a threat she concluded and they were probably amazed by what she was capable of doing with her body. She had an idea of what was going through their heads:

I wouldn't last five minutes if I did the same workout at her pace.

And boy were they right.

After spending enough time cleaning herself she stepped out of the shower and rinsed herself of. She wrapped her hair in a towel and put her robe back on. She scanned the food menu and selected a salad with white chicken and a glass of wine.

Wine was one of her daily needs as well like many other people.

A young, handsome man had bought up her food and she noticed his named tag had the name Tom Demming stitched on it. She was still in her robe and while she had her back to him she knew he was checking her out in the mirror.

Kate wasn't exactly unaccustomed to the concept of sex. She had pursued several sexual partners but nearly all of them were part of her job. If she could use her sex as a weapon or a weakness than she didn't hold back. It was probably one of the reasons the agency had hired her. And it had been part of her arsenal to use her sexuality because it could be the difference between life and death. She hadn't felt anything for them as it was just a means for an end. She was a well-tuned machine who did whatever she had to do for a mission.

She signed the bill Tom had given her.

His eyes told another story of desire and in some way she did as well but she just turned away.

Once the door was closed she took off her robe, took off her towel freeing her hair, and put on pajamas and a loose t-shirt. She put the food tray on a table and began to chow down on the chicken salad. She slowly sipped her wine while she thought about what was to happen next. The rain droned on outside as she thought about Castle again.

Past few days her mind had been occupied by him. They had a history and most of it consisted of a mission that had been assigned together. It was the first and only time where she was on the verge of death and someone else had saved her life. It was an intense moment and after the missions completion they had a shared a hug which lasted almost three minutes. It was something she never forgot because in that moment she felt whole and he had embraced her in a way which reminded of the hugs her mother gave her when she was a child. They had gone separate routes after that and rose through the rankings not knowing whether the other person was even alive. They had a shared a connection but she needed to live and if that meant taking his life. She just had to and she hated herself for that.

Castle was probably focused in on her as well and she knew he meant business. If they were to meet she would be ready but until then she had a window of opportunity.

And she intended to make most of that opportunity.

Josh Davidson was the first.

The next person on her list wasn't an easy target. But they had been warned.

Josh Davidson was a family man. He had a young wife with two children. Kate had seen his family and knew where they lived and all their names. She knew there would be grief that the family couldn't comprehend. Josh was a covert handler and that's why his family was kept in the dark on why he had died.

It is what the company policy stated regarding death. And that policy was never amended.

You took secrets to the grave.

There would be a funeral for Josh. Many would attend and even some from the higher ups in the agency. The only normal thing about his death would be his funeral. His wife, Meredith, was young and in her mid-twenties and eventually she would move on. She would even counsel her on who to marry. Maybe a plumber or a car salesman. Something safe. Or if she is feeling adventurous a writer or a film director.

She didn't feel sadness when she had taken the shot.

Josh Davidson was a man of many secrets.

Those secrets, if they were to come out, would destroy any positives he had achieved in his life and quite possibly even ruin the agency.

Beckett finished her meal and decided it was time for bed.

She lay in bed for a while listening to the rain and she remembered a moment in her childhood. She was in bed in that moment too and she remembered how the thunder had sounded terrifying to her but no one had come to check on her. It was usually her mother who would have embraced her but after her untimely death there weren't any embraces. Her dad had turned to alcohol making her home feel empty and hollow. She had grown with a sense of loneliness and seeking companionship only on a strictly professional basis.

She had grown up as a child feeling that anything that came in the dark was out to hurt you and it was her duty to get to them before they did.

Her mother had died at the age of thirty seven and during her time as a detective she had gone through undercover stings that had left her looking sixty when she had passed on. Her death wasn't exactly quick. It was a slow violent death and she had fought bravely but it was not enough. Kate was seven years old at that time and had witnessed it in all its horrid nature. Her mother had locked her in a closet and through a small crack she could see her mother suffer but even in the end she smiled at her and as she closed her eyes she had muttered the words, "I Love you, Katie. Please remember that. Always." Those were her last words and they were engraved in Beckett's mind. The experience had molded her as a person and guaranteed the notion that she would never be normal or attempt a life at normalcy. There was no therapy that could save her from what she had seen as a child. She was broken and she knew some day it will break her whole. But until that day she vowed to remain the same.

She checked under pillow and sure enough there was a gun underneath it. She had placed a table against the door so one could force in an entry.

She felt safe for now and thought sleep could actually accompany her tonight.

Maybe it was the last time it ever did.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

LaRousse Restaurant and Bar. Inside the premises Castle was sitting next to a window that let him see what was going on in the rowdy streets of midtown Dupont. He was switching his view between the street and the TV's that hung over the bar. In D.C. there was always one TV in a bar dedicated to news coverage as the whole city revolved around the world of politics. There was a story being run by CNN on the upcoming World Arab summit which was to take place in New York. According to the leaders attending, it was good setting for a conference as it represented the Arab world slowly accepting parts of western culture. The event was spearheaded by the United Nations and it was an attempt to let go of differences, be it religious or cultural, and come together and usher an age of peace amongst each other.

"Santa is real," said Castle talking to himself. No way in hell a peace event solved century old hatred the countries had for each other. Political cooperation across borders wasn't easy and without any incentives no leader would willingly bow to each other.

The bartender changed the channel and Castle was then watching an ad for a new TV show where a female detective was forced to team up with a mystery writer and help him better understand the world of detective procedures. The female didn't seem too pleased and her male counterpart looked rather jovial about the situation. The bartender changed the channel again and this time it was a news story about a trip that the president was taking to France where the French foreign minister was explaining the steps they could take to eradicate terrorism.

"And Republicans love women's rights," muttered Castle. These stories were just dreams and the not the reality of the world.

He turned his attention to the street again and just in time to see Jordan Shaw hurrying along from across the street in a rapid pace. Twenty minutes late as Castle looked at his watch. He saw her apply some final touches on her makeup and checked the results on the window next to the restaurant's entrance. Castle noticed that Shaw was not in her pantsuit but rather in an elegant dress and pair of striking red heels. He assumed that was probably why she was late.

As she looked for the table they had reserved Castle quickly glanced in another direction so she didn't catch him gawking at her. And Castle didn't doubt that Shaw would have not wanted him seeing her make the final touches on her face either.

"You look lean."

Castle looked up and saw Jordan Shaw sit across from him, "And you look hassled," he replied.

"Apologies for the lateness. New case and it's a doozy."

The waiter noticed new customers and came to take their orders. He quickly jotted down their requests and departed to another table. Castle took a breadstick out of a basket and broke it in half and ate part of it.

"Anything new?" asked Castle.

"Something intriguing to say the least," replied Shaw who took a bite of a breadstick as well.

"You're in the FBI, Jordan. All your cases should be interesting."

"You would be surprised. Most of the bad guys I encounter are too lazy to cover their trail. In the end it's always how much evidence you can gather and that gets boring fast."

"So what's different about this one?"

"The investigation just began, Castle. And I can't exactly spill the details to you. Unless you join the FBI that is," she replied raising her eyebrows. "So, why the sudden vacation Castle?"

"I think you have already asked me that."

"And you didn't give me an answer."

"I did actually and I was on a trip to New Jersey if you must know."

"New Jersey? Why?"

"You seem to be very interested in my travel log."

"Very interesting events have occurred over the past few months. Right here in D.C., even."

"Lots of interesting things happen every day. So what?"

"I don't exactly know what you do for a living now do I Castle."

Castle looked down at his table, then to his right and left. Then his eyes locked with Jordan.

Before he got to respond she said, "I am sorry. Over stepped my boundary."

"And you shouldn't."

"We haven't gotten off to a great start."

Castle responded back with his silence.

"Okay, let's start again. How have you been?"

"Oh, just been busy with work too just like you." He paused. "I actually wanted to call you again but just never got around to it."

Or courageous enough to do it.

"I have to confess, Castle. I am honestly shocked that you even thought about calling me."

"Why? Didn't we have an agreement that we would remain in contact?"

"I appreciated the notion, Castle. But I know you have a job that isn't exactly social life friendly."

He nodded in agreement as their drinks came and Jordan took a sip of hers. "Wow this is actually really good. POTUS has great taste."

"Can you taste the berries and linen?"

She had closed her eyes and slowly put her glass down. She opened her eyes again and smiled. "Every single thread is dancing inside me right now."

"Ah, that's the trademark Jordan Shaw humor. It will help you get through a lot."

"People don't fail me to remind me of that. But these days there aren't a lot of things to laugh at."

"Thus we are here tonight. Why call out of the blue for drinks?"

"Just two friends enjoying their night out."

"Or maybe it's an agent working overtime?"

"No ulterior motive here, Castle."

Castle didn't say anything but just looked at her.

"Okay, you win. I do have an agenda."

"Let's hear it then."

She was now the one that looked to her right, then left, and said in a low voice, "Josh Davidson."

Castle's facial expression didn't change and looked completely unfazed. "Who is he?"

"Sadly, who was he. Josh is dead. Assassinated to be more precise. Right in his office."

"I am sorry to hear that but if you don't mind me asking what exactly happened?"

"We got info that he apparently worked for the DAA. Do you know them, Castle?"

"I am aware of their existence."

"I said the word 'apparently' because it's pretty obvious that everyone is lying their ass off."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I think you know why, Castle. DAA is very covert in their operations and this murder is right smack in the middle of an unknown operation. I am confident it is. And let's be honest all agencies lie to protect themselves."

"That's not always the case," said Castle.

"True, but most of the times it's BS info." She then took a big gulp of her drink and eyed Castle quite attentively. "Are you positive you haven't heard of this Josh fellow?"

"Never knew he even existed," replied Castle.

Shaw gave him a look of suspicion as she sat back in her seat.

"Are you in contact or know everyone in the FBI?" Castle asked.

"The FBI is huge, Castle. I am not the only lead agent in the bureau. Plenty of takers out there."

"Well, that proves my point then. Even in my field I am not aware that some people even worked for my agency."

"This is a gut feeling but I am confident that Josh was in the middle of an important thing. His death has shook many people at the top too. Even the Bureau Chief gave me a call to give a vote of confidence. Hence, my suspicion that something big is in play here."

He was involved in a big mission and has indeed shaken some very important people at the top, thought Castle.

Shaw was on the right track and that worried Castle. Not because she was going to find out that he knew literally everything Shaw knows and more. But it was for her safety. There was a lethal weapon on the loose and she could find a target in Shaw.

"Say if I even knew anything, Jordan. You know I can't tell you anything and I think you know that."

"I can hope right?" she asked in a sweet voice and a smile on her face. She drained the rest of her drink and told the waiter to get another one.

The food arrived moments later and they ate mostly in silence. When the food is good then a conversation amongst each other wasn't necessary.

They finished fifteen minutes later and while cleaning up she asked, "I don't know what happened after our drug sting, Castle. You said a trip to London was on your schedule? How did that turn out?"

London, he thought. A city with a perfect blend of old and new. It was the city he had chosen as his post-drug bust mission and he was given a choice as well. At that point in his life he was severely depressed and needed an escape from the country he had protected. London had been mission to kill yet another drug lord but he had enough time in London to come back as somewhat unbroken.

"It turned out well enough. Needed a rest you know? After all that had happened with Martinez and El Chapo, I wanted a little break from everything."

"I understand. But you just lied didn't you?"

"About what?"

"You were assigned a case in London. I know you had something to do with the Italian kingpin in London."

"You're right. I was involved but not to the extent you think. Just intel gathering. You know my Italian is top notch," he replied knowing that he had somewhat lied again.

"Despite everything you had been through. The drug bust. With Alexis's family, Castle," she paused. "Your compartmentalization skills are amazing to say the least."

"Just like you, Jordan. One case at a time…So, how long are you gonna stick with the FBI life?"

"Till I drop and they drag me away from my office," replied Shaw looking out the window. "Probably when I hit a dead end and they don't think I am getting enough results."

"You think you'll last that long?"

"I don't think about the future, Castle. I live in the present and you're the one that thinks about the big picture and what lies ahead more than me," she replied and then asked, "So when is your retirement date?"

"Probably won't be the one to decide that."

She looked at her drink and started swirling it with her wrist and nodded. "Maybe you should be the one to decide that, Castle"

"The work I do, Jordan," he paused and thought about what he would say next. "It really isn't my place to dictate my future. My life is owed to them."

"You owe them nothing."

They had a moment of silence as both of them played with their drinks in front of them.

What was retirement even going to be like for him? He hadn't given it a single thought and he knew like many of his fellow field agents that their end was in a grave.

This troubled Castle for the very first time in his career. He had thought about death but it was always in an imaginary scenario of being covered with a hail of bullets.

He thought about Alexis.

They probably won't even tell her about his death and she would assume that he had moved on.

Jordan broke the silence and asked, "Have you contacted Alexis these past few months?"

"No," he replied.

"Castle, I still remember the day after the drug bust that you promised her that you would keep in touch."

"Not too good with promises. I promised you too remember."

"She's a kid, Castle," said Shaw in a worried tone.

"I know she's a kid. That means she has a long life in front of her."

"Promises aren't meant to be broken. It's something you hold dear and you seem like a person that would always adhere to that."

"No, not in the real world, Shaw," answered Castle. "She has made it obvious that I don't need to be around her. She's leading a normal right now and I am in no way screwing up that for her."

"Oh, how noble, Castle," she replied rolling her eyes.

"However you want to put it."

"You're the type of guy that no one can put a finger on. You're a very hard man to read and relate to, Castle. And that's not a compliment."

Castle stayed silent.

"But I guess it is what it is. You lead a life that no can know and you won't let anyone in."

"You're right I suppose." Even though he knew that was lie as he had let a person in but that had ended with a gun on his face.

"Answer this, Castle. Do you wish it was different?"

It was an easy response for Castle but that was before Sofia. Before Alexis. Before Jordan. Now he was having trouble formulating a response but he ended up saying, "I haven't exactly lived for a very long time, Jordan."

"So why not just move on? I have a life that many would call insane but even I have a life that could be deemed enjoyable."

"You think I don't?"

"Do you?"

Castle rose from his chair and placed some money on the table. "Thank you for this, Jordan. It was nice seeing you again and good luck with your case."

"You really mean that or is that a lie too?"

"You have no idea how much I mean that."

They both locked eyes and he didn't know if Shaw could read eyes as well as he could but he hoped that she realized how much he wanted a different life. A life that wasn't filled with paranoia as his. A life where his potential friends weren't at risk of losing their lives.

And the last thing he wanted to do was attend a Jordan Shaw funeral.

* * *

Katherine Beckett had left New York behind and was now being flown back to D.C. She had come back to finish a job and it was in D.C. that her target lay.

For a mission to succeed you first needed to lay out your options. In this case there were three.

Move from the bottom and crawl your way to the top.

Or the opposite, from the top to bottom.

Or just shake it up and mix them so you don't let the other predict where you will strike next. Complete chaos was a valid strategy in some cases.

The bottom to top approach was reasonable but the third choice would be her best option considering she didn't give two shits about symbolism of the first choice. The third choice would increase her chance at survival and she was willing to take it.

The area was that she was in currently was surrounded by tall buildings. It was the white collar district of D.C. and right now it was practically empty apart from the cleaning crews working inside the buildings. The district was home to high ranking execs and government officials as well. The private sector was also prominent in this district.

But all of that didn't matter to Beckett. It didn't matter whether the rich, poor, the middle or whoever lay in between them, she just went to places which needed her attention. She was a machine designed to execute whoever they wanted her to. She almost felt like a surgeon at times.

She turned on her hearing device in her right ear and straightened her hair and unbuttoned her shirt. The gun lay on her shoulder holster and she held it in place ready to remove it when the time was right.

She looked at her watch and doing the math in her head she calculated that there were twenty minutes left till the target was in position. She needed to make the necessary adjustments and preparations in the meantime.

The weather was cool as the city had undergone a massive rain storm and it was this time of year where the raincoats came out as well. The streets were empty and there was no traffic in her line of sight. It was dead at night and almost no was out at this hour.

Her life revolved around time and if there was a single misjudgment from her then time itself would seize to exist for her.

Her ear piece came to life and a voice confirmed that the convoy was on the move. They were ahead of schedule and the target would arrive in less than eight minutes. She knew her agencies radio channel and it was proving to be extremely useful.

There was a device in shape of a box in her pocket and she pressed a button on the side which turned it on. This was quite possibly the most important object she owned apart from her gun. It was black in color with two buttons on each side of the box. Without this box her entire plan would be scrapped and she would need an impossible mission to kill her next target. And luck.

The situation she was in now could not be controlled by luck.

She had already gotten enough luck and her being alive was proof of that.

A car approached from a corner and onto the street she was on but hiding in the darkness of the alley.

It was a black town car.

Nearly every town car was black and she needed confirmation that it was indeed her target inside and not a dummy. She took out a pair of glasses that looked normal but in reality were night vision glasses. She turned them on and looked inside and sure enough she saw the person that was her target.

The very next step had cost her.

Cost her money that is. Five hundred dollars to be precise.

Priceless if she was to succeed tonight.

She took out a small torch and flashed it once across the street. A light came back in response and then she pushed a button on her box device which immediately made the traffic signal turn red. The town car driver slowed down and stopped at the signal.

She placed the box back inside her pocket and she then saw a small figure run towards the car from across the street. He had a bucket of water in one hand and a sponge in one hand. He unloaded nearly all the water on the windshield and proceeded to clean it.

This was her chance.

"Hey! Get off! Stop that right now!" the driver yelled at the small looking individual.

The window cleaner was an eleven year old and had accepted a sum of money from a woman to do this.

The driver yelled again, "Hey Kid! Get the fuck off right now!"

The traffic signal remained red.

Kate had gotten into position and had her gun ready to unload. She was standing next to a tree for support and her gun had a scope so she didn't have to be right in front of the car to shoot. It was a normal .45 gun but with a scope addition that made it lethal from distance.

The kid moved to the other side of the car and a window opened from the passenger side.

This was what she was hoping for because her target was in the back seat. Now the accuracy of her shot was all that mattered.

She took a deep breath and moved her finger on the trigger.

No going back now.

The kid finished cleaning the windshield and raced to the driver's side with his hand held out. "Clean as the moon itself. Five bucks mister."

"If you don't leave in the next five seconds…"

"My momma needs a surgery, mister. Please."

"Get out of here right now," the driver shouted threatening to come out of the car.

Too late.

A bullet zipped past the driver and into the man seated in the back seat.

A perfect head shot.

Kate put the gun back into the holster and then pushed a button on the box device.

The traffic signal turned green.

But the car didn't move.

The driver jumped out of the car screaming and the kid was long gone into the dark alleys of the city.

The driver was covered in blood and brain matter.

Kate turned around and blended into the night. The gun was already in pieces and she placed it into her pockets.

In the town car Dick Coonan slumped forward, held back by his seat belt. There was brain matter all over the back seats.

The head of the CIA would need a new right hand man. The agency would need a new number two man in charge.

The driver raced around the street to look for the shooter but Kate was already gone underground and had entered the subway system. She entered a train and within minutes she was already miles away from the crime scene she had made.

Dick Coonan was off her list.

She was on to the next one.

If Rick Castle had investigated her thoroughly then he was next.

* * *

 **Quick** **Note** : Thank you to all you for reading this up till now and to the people leaving reviews as well. I'll try my best to submit one chapter at least every couple of days. They are getting rather lengthy, however, so it takes longer to edit and make sure the story makes sense as well. I really appreciate the patience as well. I know the story is a drag at times but I want to be as detailed as possible. Thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

The world around Castle operated on a day and night basis but his didn't. His job wasn't a strict nine to five basis thus eight pm at night was a start of a new workday for him. The north east shore of Virginia wasn't exactly visitor friendly as no car, metro bus, or even a train traveled to the shore. Even planes strayed away from the zone as the weather was unpredictable making plane rides a death trap for some.

He decided to drive to the north east section of Virginia and it was a logical decision with a hint of personal satisfaction as well. The one thing he really liked to do was drive and it was quite therapeutic as well.

Listening to the news on the radio Castle drove on till he reached Portsmouth, Virginia. From there he took a bridge to a neighboring city across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge that connected the eastern shore to the commonwealth. There was a tunnel that had been built which ripped through a man made island that was connected to a bridge at its end. Castle accelerated faster and drove to the bridges end and onto the firm concrete road.

The Eastern Shore of Virginia was divided into two subdivisions which were named Accomack and Northampton respectively. The two counties were quite flat as barely any hills protruded from the earth and it gave home to approximately fifty thousand people. The people who resided here were mostly farm owners and their workers. This was the blue collar back bone of Virginia.

NASA was also an attraction in the eastern shore but more specifically the Wallops Flight Facility where wild ponies and horses roamed freely across acres of grasslands.

Castle was here to look for something wild but with lethal weapons. A rogue assassin under the control of someone else.

Or maybe she was controlling herself.

Castle turned right onto a one way street and continued on for more than ten miles till he reached an area which boasted no human inhabitants. He took out his binoculars and sure enough there was a brownish speck that was darker than the objects surrounding it. There was a gravel road that led to it and he turned his car to follow the path to the speck. As he closed in the brownish object turned about to be a cottage with a front porch facing the Atlantic Ocean and its waves pounding the shore. The waves looked enormous from where he stood and he had to admit that despite the furiousness of the waves it was a view that really calmed him. Maybe that's why she had chosen this location.

Despite the view he doubted that it would become a tourist attraction anytime soon and he now understood why Kate had chosen this as her home base. It was secluded from civilization and he assumed that like him, companionship wasn't a necessity.

He was still in his car and observed the cottage top down and side to side.

He heard thunderous sound from a couple of miles off the shore and he stepped out of his car onto soil which was good for vegetation but not homes. There were no basements and he assumed the owner would know that one day the ocean would take over this land.

The back of the cottage revealed no gardens or even a lawn for that matter and this confirmed Castle's assumption that Kate was simplistic as they came. Castle had no idea where Kate would go to replenish her daily needs. Who she would contact for her plumbing or electrical needs? Maybe she employed herself to fix those problems or maybe she didn't even need those things to live.

He even wondered how many times had she even been here. She wasn't here right now otherwise he would be getting pelted with bullets. Castle reminded himself to keep his guesses to himself and look for factual information.

This cottage seemed odd to say the least and to investigate it you needed a plan. A defensive plan if things went south. He thought about what he would do in Beckett's position and increasing survival measures would be on the top of the list for both of them.

There was a small stable house next to the cottage and he decided to explore that first.

He had his gun on the ready and he moved towards the a stable that was right next to the cottage and kept himself away from the line of sight by walking around the edges of the pathway. There were no trees around so there were no shooting points from there and no hills either to set up a snipers nest and wait for him to show up. There were some trees in the distance but he saw nothing of significance.

All these variables should have eased Castle's mind.

It didn't.

Instead his mind was on high alert and to make matters worse he didn't have back up either.

He opened the front door of the stable but slid to his left not leaving it to chance whether there was a shotgun placed strategically to go off when the door opened. There wasn't one. He entered the premises crouched down. There was no sign of light and it was pitch dark apart from the light being emitted by the opened door. He looked around and assumed it was empty. That didn't mean it was safe.

Kate Beckett didn't need to be on her land to kill any unwanted individuals.

He looked around the premises twice and observed closely whatever he felt was important. He noticed that there was a small pond approximately twenty yards from the back door of the cottage and he noticed something odd in that setting. On the surface of the pond there was barely any pond scum but the ground surrounding it was covered in grass and algae as well.

Other than that there was nothing that seemed out of place or worth noting.

Apart from the cottage itself.

Castle sat down as if he were doing a squat and pondered over the situation in hand.

He quickly developed an offensive strategy and went back to his car to get the necessary items. The items were in his trunk and he gathered them all in a small leather pouch. He walked back to the cottage and stopped about fifty feet away from the front door. He took out a rifle and loaded in a round. He took aim and shot a single shot at the front door. The round easily pierced the door and entered the cottage.

Apart from wood smashing, nothing else happened.

He reloaded his rifle and aimed at the porch floor and fired it again.

The floor split in half and a piece of wood flew in the air.

And yet again nothing happened.

For the third time he reloaded another round, took aim, and shot the front door lock which flew off the door. The door swung open almost instantly.

Nothing else happened.

He put his rifle away in the leather pouch and placed it back in the car's trunk. Except for a single device that he put in his pocket.

He took out his gun from his shoulder holster and crept forward slowly. When he reached the front door he took the device out of his pocket and aimed at the cottage through the scope.

It was a thermal scope and it showed no life inside.

Unless there was a dead body inside there was no one in the cottage.

It still didn't ease Castle's mind that it was a safe place to enter.

Castle didn't have the necessary equipment to do a bomb search like a SWAT team might have or any bomb sniffing dogs either. He didn't have a choice but take a chance. He looked away from the scope and took out a small metallic object and turned it on.

He reentered the premises and placed his feet carefully on the wooden floor making sure not to make any unnecessary movements that could trigger something. He waved the metallic device around the floorboards looking for any new wooden pieces or pressure plates.

The cottage had several rooms and he moved through each room but found nothing. The cottage wasn't exactly huge and it didn't take long for him to search the furniture either. Beckett was the epitome of minimalism except for one thing. Like him, she had a huge bookshelf that spanned an entire wall which he guessed was over 10 ft in length. She was a reader like him and it seemed like both of them shared the same taste in genres as well.

Apart from the bookshelf there wasn't much that needed his attention. No artifacts, photos, or souvenirs. Nothing that would even indicate that Kate even lived here.

Just like him almost.

He moved into the kitchen but just then his phone went off.

He took it out and saw message that was written in caps lock:

 _DICK COONAN IS DEAD. D.C. STREET. BECKETT MOST LIKELY._

Castle reread the message and then contemplated on the news that he had just received.

This was huge. Maybe even national news because Coonan wasn't exactly a small figure in charge. However, this did not faze Castle as he had been trained to remain calm in times of distress. His first objective was to get out of here and this trip had gotten him barely anything on Kate.

He looked at his right and saw a door which looked like an entrance to a pantry. It was slightly open and he looked inside with his gun drawn.

It was empty as well.

 _Fuck me, Kate. Give me something._

This whole trip had been a giant waste of precious time and in that time Kate had taken a life of the number two man in the agency. She was winning by a mile from where he stood now.

He shined his light to the wall where the back door was and noticed something written on the wall.

 _I AM SORRY._

Castle kicked open the rear door as it was the quickest way out of the house.

At least it seemed like the quickest and safest route at that time.

Then he heard click sound and then a strong wind hit him which instantly made his decision to kick the door a nightmarish scenario.

* * *

The small, dark secluded area was now the scene of a firestorm now. The whole cottage now was engulfed in flames.

The cottage was barely holding itself together as it started to melt under the immense pressure of the fire and the wood providing more fuel to the fire. Castle jumped from the rear porch and onto the mixture of grass and dirt that was the backyard. He started running and in moments the fire was engulfed on either side of him forming a passageway for him.

The fire was expertly designed as the trigger was placed under the dirt so no suspicion would arise.

Castle was now scrambling ahead.

There was no other choice.

He was heading straight to the pond he had found when he was searching the stable. The fire ended there right at the edge where the water met the ground.

Seconds later the cottage exploded once more. He took cover and rolled onto the ground from the destructive force that was going to hit him. The explosion almost threw him into the fire that had made wall on either side of him.

He quickly rose and searched for the pond so he could dive into the water.

Water and fire were polar opposites. That's what he needed.

He ran ahead till he reached the edge of the pond and then stopped. Even in this moment of madness something struck him.

Back in the stable he had noticed the surface of the pond had no scum or algae on it. It was too clean from its surroundings. The ground surrounding the pond was full algae and tall grass.

What could possibly kill fungus and algae?

Why was he forced in a pathway that led straight to the pond that could potentially save his life?

Castle didn't jump into the pond but rather threw his gun to his left side where a wall of fire was screaming back at him. He pulled off his jacket, covered himself the best he could, and then leaped into the fire.

It was heat that he could barely handle as the fire pierced him like acid.

He leaped forward once again and cleared the raging flames. He rolled on the ground again to get rid of any fire that was on him. He looked back at the wall of fire just in time to see it reach the pond.

BOOM

A huge roar erupted and the result was Castle flying through the air in the opposite direction. He landed on his back and thankfully there was enough grass to ease his landing.

He rose again shakily this time, his shirt half torn, jacket almost burnt off, and he had no idea where his gun was. Thankfully his pants were still in one piece and shoes were intact as well.

He checked his pocket for car keys and immediately dropped them. The keys felt as though they had been through a furnace.

Letting his keys cool off for a bit he picked them back up and watched momentarily the pond engulfed in flames.

If it were a normal pond it would have been filled with algae and scum and the fire would have avoided it as well.

There was no algae in the pond so that left only one possibility. There had been fuel and accelerant in the pond placed by someone else. He wondered why there wasn't a smell of large amounts of fuel being dumped but then he remembered he was next to an ocean. The smell of salt and the ocean was too strong for the pond fuel to make its existence known.

He looked at the cottage or the remains of the cottage now and remembered what was etched next to the rear door.

 _I AM SORRY._

 _Are you sorry, Kate?_

The woman was playing the game of life and death and Castle didn't expect anything less from her.

He found a piece of his jacket and the gun next to it. The gun looked like it could shoot as it had landed on some pieces of rock instead of the water puddle that was right next to it. He looked for his phone inside his jacket and felt a piece of plastic that had been burnt. There was no way his insurance company would cover for this.

His wallet was in his back pant pocket and was left unscathed.

He couldn't walk straight so he limped to the car and his left arm and leg felt hot enough that they seemed frozen in pain. He unlocked his car and got in closing the door. He locked the doors and remembered that he was the only living thing for miles. He ignited the engine and opened the interior lights to check his face on the rear view mirror.

There was no damage.

His left arm wasn't so lucky. It had a bad burn on it which sting like hell.

He took off his pants and examined what damage had been done on his legs. It was his left leg that gotten the worst of it as he noticed a severe looking burn that was blistered around the edges. Some of the fabrics were stuck to the wound as well to make matters worse.

He took out a first aid kit from the glove compartment and started to clean the burn on his left leg. To say it hurt like a bitch would be an understatement. Applied some cream to the damaged areas and covered it with some surgical cloth and tape. He put the first aid kit back in its original place and turned the car around. He headed back the way he had come and wondered how he could contact Gates who must be severely worried by now. Coonan was dead and Castle wasn't responding. The ultimate shitstorm.

He couldn't get any medical care for his injuries as too many questions and files would need to be filled out. The Eastern Shore was isolated sure but a fireball that reached thirty feet in the air was hard not to notice. Police cars zipped by him and firetrucks right behind its tail. They would barely find anything and probably file it as a gas leak.

Somehow he made it back to D.C. sometime in the morning and after changing his bandages he immediately contacted Gates. He told her everything and she seemed worried but Castle couldn't tell much over the phone.

"You're so damn lucky, Castle," said Gates.

"You've no idea," replied Castle. "Mixed luck though. Good being that I lived and bad being that I have injuries and no clues on Kate. What's the current situation with Coonan?"

Gates went into detail on the things she knew and it took five minutes for Castle to digest the new info.

Castle said, "That's all we know? What the caused the murder but nothing on Kate? No witnesses?"

"Report back, Castle. You have burns that are severe and I know you're hiding their true effect on you. We'll treat them at the agency."

"Any reason she would go after Coonan?" Castle asked trying to ignore her worry.

"No reason right now. Only theories on why she would do something like this."

Gates had replied back in a tone that concerned Castle. "Something going on in the higher ups that I don't know about?"

No response from Gates.

"I'll report back in a few hours. Need to get some things together and think through some stuff."

"There is another location that I have for you to report back to," said Gates breaking her silence.

"Why not the usual building?" asked Castle.

No response yet again except a text message giving Castle the address.

Castle put down his phone and limped over to the window.

Beckett had been just miles away from his home and had killed Coonan. They still didn't know it was her but his instincts were screaming that Kate had done it.

That meant she was still out there somewhere. Why she was still in D.C. was a bigger question. Because if it were Castle then he would have bailed from the city a long time ago after killing his target.

But this was a whole new scenario that even the agency had never encountered.

Castle carefully removed the bandages from his burn, took a shower, and then put on some new clothes.

He had received the location of where Coonan had been shot during his conversation with Gates. That place would be a hive full of cops. Castle wanted to go and just observe because he could then visualize what Kate had done. He desperately wanted a breakthrough because this situation had now become a red alert case. That meant all the agencies knew something was up and soon the media would start asking questions.

He took the elevator down to his apartment's garage and confirmed one thing. This was a one off night where he was just lucky that his body wasn't in ashes. Kate was one step ahead of everyone at all times. It was as though she was god seeking some sort of vengeance. Only she knew the motivation behind all these killings.

And he was the one playing catch-up.

Right now he felt as though this could go on forever and he'll never catch her.

Gates always told her agents one thing that none of them forgot.

 _May the odds be ever in your favor_

The odds were definitely in Kate's favor and Castle couldn't see anything happening that would change those odds in his favor.

The sun was beginning to rise and slowly wake people from their slumber.

It looked like a beautiful morning was on the horizon after the recent rain storms.

And he was just glad that he was alive.

Alive to see the sun rise and him to see it.

* * *

Castle had lived.

Barely, but he was still alive and well. Kate had watched the entire thing on her laptop.

What Castle hadn't noticed was that there was a camera fitted inside a tall tree that overlooked the cottage and was giving her a direct feed of what was going on at all times. She had seen Castle drive up, search the front porch for any traps, then search the stable, and then finally search the cottage. What he had missed was that there was a small battery inside the stable which had a wire going out to a tree and powering a camera.

This was a thing that Kate thought she would never witness. Castle making a mistake and it truly eased her mind that he had lapse of judgments too.

However, he had later done what nearly every other agent couldn't have. He had stopped right in front of the pond and figured out that it was a fuel filled pond ready to explode. He had then flung himself to the wall of fire and survived the ordeal.

She had watched the video again but in slow motion and she still couldn't see hat he had done next after he had triggered the wall of fire. The fire was tall enough that it obstructed the view of the camera.

It was pressure that many would crumble under but he had remained calm. He had enough patience and intelligence to figure out an escape route and keep himself alive.

He was injured but he had lived.

She played the video until Castle was getting into his car and then she paused it.

She started to wonder whether she was better than him. _If she had faced the same situation would she have done the same thing? Am I better?_

She analyzed his face which looked like as though someone had rubbed coal on it and thought about what he was thinking. She wanted to be in his head and know what his mind was thinking right after he had gone through a wall of hell fire.

He gave her nothing.

No sense of pain on his face or anguish. Just his regular self.

Excellent poker face.

She closed her laptop and sat back on her bed. She took out a gun from her holster and started tinkering with it. Her eyes weren't even on the gun which was a telling sign how disassembling a gun was nothing to her.

She put the gun back into one piece and then disassembled it again without looking.

Apart from yoga this was the only thing that calmed her down and make her think straight. She wanted a clear head now more than ever.

There were now two sides gunning at her now with full force.

On one side there were people on her list that she had already warned. They probably had tighter security in place especially now after Coonan's death.

On the other side was Castle. The one man army who was now madder than ever. He had almost died because of her and now she was going against a fully loaded Castle.

This meant that she needed to watch her front and back at the same time. It would be insanely hard but not impossible in her book.

Castle had traveled to East Shore to learn more about her but instead had a wrestling match with a fiery death.

Kate now wanted more information on Castle. She had guessed that it would be him that would come after her. The footage from the cottage had confirmed that.

She pushed herself off the bed, made a phone call, and then slipped into some clothes which included a pair of jeans, sweater, boots, and a hoodie. Her gun was in the belt holster and a small knife as well. The knife was on her wrist for ease of access.

No matter what she did with her appearances there were too many people. The US was under constant surveillance especially in the biggest cities. There were almost no corners that didn't have cameras anymore and she knew for sure that her employer would be using them to find her. Even using the NSA if they must.

There were no mistakes that Kate could make as one misstep was all it would take for her to be found. She had her defenses setup but they weren't going to be enough in due time. Everything could be broken given enough time. Every war strategy had weaknesses and it was a matter of time who was smart enough to figure that weakness out. She wasn't delusional enough to think that her plan was perfect.

She had taken a cab to a major section of the city and had gotten out. She would walk the rest of the way and it was a lengthy one that would last about twenty five minutes. She walked as casual as possible but increased her pace if the people walking with her went faster. She had to employ every skill in her book to remain anonymous and lose any tail if there was any.

Walking at a steady pace she reached her location with some time to spare. She observed the location carefully and took in everything that surrounded the location. Whatever was about to take place would be from here.

Fifteen minutes later she saw a man approach the location she had been scouting. He was dressed in a tailored suit and looked like a politician or a bureaucrat judging by his looks. He wasn't carrying anything with him and that was usual these days for a bureaucrat.

The old days had passed where people used briefcases and huge folders to keep track of their documents.

He stopped at a newsstand and browsed the various options available to purchase. He picked the Wall Street Journal and the small machine responded by letting him take out the newspaper out of a small box looking device. To many people that was a normal thing to do and wouldn't turn heads.

He picked up the newspaper and then walked away.

She watched him turn the street and then walked over to the machine herself. She inserted a couple of coins and then took a newspaper out of the pile that was presented to her. She picked a newspaper that was torn on the side and inside it lay a USB that the man had placed there.

This was an old fashioned method used to transfer data by hands and not over the internet. The man who had put the USB there was a friend who owed her big time but he wasn't aware of the fact that two of the biggest intelligence agencies were after her. The agency using a small team to find her had worked to her advantage as not everyone on the agency was aware of her detour from agency policies. The backdoors were open to every field agent to avoid any panic or leak of an internal conflict. But she knew that her fellow field agents would know the truth soon and be on their way to kill her. For now, she was still part of the agency.

Kate collected the device and then walked away casually but her brain was on high alert of the surroundings. There was a fast food restaurant nearby and she slipped in going straight to the restroom. She took out a small tablet and plugged in the USB on the side but first she ran a software which checked for unwanted trackers and malware. The man who had given her this USB was a good friend but she couldn't trust anyone. Any person could become an enemy if the circumstances were right.

The USB showed no signs of malcontent.

She went back out to the restaurant and immediately took the exit. It wasn't obvious as many people were crammed in waiting for their orders. Whatever route she took from her hotel was not in the plans now thus she took a different route by train, a bus, the train again, and then a short walk to the main entrance of the hotel. The entire process had taken her two hours and most of it was spent making sure no one was following her.

She entered her room and went straight to a desk which was next to the window. She opened her laptop and plugged in the USB. There was PDF file on it which she opened and on her desktop lay tons of information regarding one person.

It was as though she was looking at a mirror.

Richard Castle probably knew everything there is to know about her and know she had the opportunity to learn more about his life. She was already aware of some the missions he had been on but there was some information that she didn't know.

Castle had grown up with a single mother named Martha who had a short lived acting career and had died in a fatal accident.

Both her and Castle weren't exactly social life friendly either.

They were both destined towards one path but soon their paths had been aligned alongside the agencies and had been sworn in to protect their countries.

There were a host of things they had in common.

Problematic with authority. Thought their way was the best way.

Extremely good at their jobs. Not a single failed mission.

And now they were pitted against each other. One of them was about to take a loss.

There was always one winner.

No ties.

There were two photos attached to the document and one of them was an attractive female in her thirties.

She looked resolute and if no one had told her about what she did for work, Kate would have still guessed a federal agent at the very least.

Her name was Special Agent Jordan Shaw and she had a resume that would make many gain respect for her. She had smashed the gender bias in every department she had a foot in and her career had taken from the state of California where she had tackled cases that her fellow agents thought was a cold case in the making. She had risen through the rankings on her merits and tenacity that was unmatched by many.

There was a small note under the picture which told Kate that Shaw was the lead on Josh's death.

Shaw knew Castle too and they had worked together in taking down one of the biggest cartels in the world. And for some reason Kate felt what she thought was jealousy. Not that Kate had a crush on Castle or anything but because Shaw had worked with one of the smartest operatives in the US.

It was more of professional crush than a romantic one she kept reminding herself.

Both were not pushovers and gunning for her.

 _Great_

Kate stared at Shaw's picture and memorized every feature down to the tip of her nose. It was for the sole reason that Shaw could be in a crowd and Kate wanted to be sure that she could make her out from a mile away.

She turned her attention to the second picture.

It was a teenage girl with blazing red hair and she was fifteen years old according to the details next to her picture.

Alexis Rodgers.

Foster care.

Parents had been murdered.

Apparently this young girl had worked with Castle on a special assignment and during that operation she had proven to be very efficient, intelligent, and most of all, adaptable. She had gone through events in her life which many adults wouldn't take and given up. However, Castle really cared about this girl and had risked his own life and career to help her.

Kate observed the teenagers picture carefully and mulled about her existence. She saw eyes and a face that had grown up too fast for her own good. She had clearly suffered a lot but she had survived as well. The aftermath of survival that many ignore is that suffering sticks with you. It inhibits you like a virus and molds you as a person that you become someone else. A person stuck with that suffering or guilt and can never let it go.

You become a person that only shows the world the battle hardened, emotionless, and unbroken person that you think you are. But in reality you are never really any one of those. Human beings aren't capable of that.

We are wired in a way where we need to show heart. A sense of emotional connection to other human beings. And most of all appreciate and give love to others.

Kate closed her eyes for a while and just let the cool air coming from the window hit her face.

She decided that food was in order and called room service.

After she ate, she quizzed herself on the facts she had memorized.

She knew the current location of Alexis Rodgers and who she lived with. What school she attended and it also had come to her attention that Castle had never visited her.

 _Heartless_? Sure.

But she knew why he did it.

 _It was the only way to protect her and keep her away from the wretched world both Castle and her operated in._

It wasn't exactly a playground and you didn't get second chances.

But Alexis had refused.

Refused to part ways with Castle and break away from her.

Alexis was only a child and now an orphan. Her parents were dead and this was something that Kate could relate to on every level.

She had faced the same situation as Alexis had but at a younger age. Beckett had navigated her childhood in a turbulent manner and she didn't wish it on anyone. There had to be past trauma for one to yield a gun and kill another person without any remorse whatsoever. You didn't have a normal childhood. No waiting for the school bus in the morning, play sports, or become anything in a school that a parent would be proud of. You survived on a daily basis and hoped for a future that wasn't filled with darkness.

She took a sip of her coffee and noticed rain drops falling on the window sill. Her eyes wouldn't leave the picture of Alexis.

 _You can become me,_ she thought.

And Castle.

 _But if it was a two way street you took the street with less guns and violence._

 _Just run, Alexis._

As fast as you can.

She closed her laptop and the picture of Alexis was no more.

It was still there. The picture was now engraved in Kate's mind.

She looked at Alexis and it was essentially her looking at herself in the past.

She had to contact him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned\

* * *

Translucent police tape lit up the dark and rainy night yet again in the streets of D.C. The wind blew in every direction making the tape rope shimmer in the dark as though a golden rope had emerged in the night. There were several FBI vans, police cars, barricades, and of course the media trying to ask what had happened as the uniforms tried to hold them back.

This was a typical crime scene.

The center of attention was usually a dead body and it was getting to a point where a new body was turning up every day with a different story to digest.

Castle was standing behind a barricade where a group of pedestrians had gathered. He had an enough height advantage to observe the ongoing investigation with a keen eye. His mind was still in a haze since his near death experience on the North Shore of Virginia. There was one thing, however, that wouldn't stop teasing him.

 _There was something in the stable that looked like a battery that he had ignored._

He assumed that was a big clue waiting to be discovered but it was gone by now. There was no way to know what had that battery had been potentially charging. The local police would probably be swarming all over that place and he wondered what they would come up with.

He called Gates to ask that exact question.

"The stable is no longer there," Gates said.

"What happened to it?" asked a bemused Castle. He was sure that the stable was untouched by the fire.

"Ten minutes after you had left, the stable exploded as well. It was a small C4 that had been placed right in the middle of the stable and programmed to go off right after the cottage blew up. I confirmed it through satellite images. Police are there but they haven't found anything."

"Kate's good at covering her tracks."

"She's our number two. We can't expect anything less."

"I guess so."

"You haven't come in yet, Castle," said Gates.

"I'll report in sometime. Don't worry about it."

Castle ended the call and watched as the crime scene investigators find little to nothing.

The town car Coonan had used was still in the same spot but it was hard to see anything else as a blue tarp had been placed around the edges to avoid any unwanted photography.

Gates had already sent Castle the information about how Coonan had been executed. It was triggered by a small kid who had started cleaning the windshield of the car. Both the drivers and passenger windows had come down and then the shot came through the passenger's side. It was a straight headshot and the driver was left alive.

Coonan had been her target and it didn't make sense to kill anyone else. He was the higher up that was pulling some major strings. Castle could only imagine what the number one person in the agency was going through right now. Sweating bullets would be one thing but now paranoia was about to take over and that's exactly what Kate wanted.

The small kid had run away and they were looking for him. Even if they found the kid they wouldn't get much of anything. He was most likely paid to clean the windshield and wouldn't have seen the person giving the money to him either.

Josh Davidson was an analyst and a small piece considering his position in the agency. But to go from an analyst to the number two person in the agency was an impressive leap to say the least. Symbolic in some ways. There had to be a reason for Kate to pick these specific targets and he doubted that she had chosen randomly. There was always a method to someone's madness.

Castle had come to understand some part of that madness and for him to understand the complete madness he had to know the past of both these men she had killed.

The file on Coonan would probably be way thicker than Josh's and most of it would probably be classified. He wondered how much in the dark he was on some things and there will be a point where he would either have to insist or maybe even force his agency to tell him the classified secrets. He couldn't operate blindly without knowing the true motives of Beckett.

The traffic light turned green but there were no cars that moved through the intersection. The whole block had been shut off and angry motorists were told to take detours.

He stared at the traffic light and wondered whether she had used a jammer. She couldn't have left it to chance the town car stopping at this particular traffic light.

He placed another call to Gates.

"Have an analyst check the traffic light cycle chart. I am willing to bet she tampered with the system and made the car stop at this traffic light. It was dead at night so traffic lights tend to stay green. No way she plays with luck and hopes it stays red the whole time."

"Already did the test and they were overridden manually by an outside source. She used the device traffic workers use sometimes during road construction."

Castle ended the call yet again and walked off towards the street curb. He kept trying to analyze where the shot could have come from. He noticed a tree in the distance and by reversing the angle he concluded that the tree was the vantage point. The police would soon get there.

Casually he strolled towards the tree and eyed the branch for any bullet burns or marks and he saw nothing. He didn't even know which side of the tree she could have taken the shot and the kid wouldn't know either.

Probably didn't even know that he was being coerced into participating in a murder.

Gates had told him that there were no witnesses. Apart from the driver and the kid of course but even the driver hadn't seen anything that resembled a human being. He didn't even know where the shot had come from and was in a state of panic the whole time.

Castle did a recon of the path the bullet had taken and it was a perfect view of the passenger in the back. Roll down the windows and you're good even from a distance.

The only negatives he imagined was that it was at night and a rainy one too on top of that. There was no margin of error if the shot was taken from where he stood.

She couldn't have used a rifle as that would have been a hassle. Probably a gun with a scope attached to it. The same thermal scope he had used during to his trip to the cottage.

She had taken the shot and disappeared into the night. But disappearing wasn't easy and you needed years of experience to master it.

He examined the tree and his gaze stopped on a small object. He touched it and it immediately fell to the ground. It was grey in color and had a scent.

Back in the old house where Kate had taken the shot to kill Josh. There had been a piece of object that had stuck to his boot as well. He didn't have time to examine it as the FBI had interfered rudely. The scent was similar as well.

He put the piece of cloth looking object in his pocket and decided to not give it up to the police. He couldn't trust them enough to find anything on it and he wasn't exactly their ally either.

He looked around all the possible directions for escape routes and it didn't help as the intersection led to almost every possible location in D.C.

His phone came to life again

Probably Gates so she could tell him why she was acing more weird than usual.

It wasn't Gates.

It was Kate Beckett.

* * *

 _Don't take it_ personally, _Castle._

He stared at the text he had received. Then to his surprise another text arrived.

 _I am glad that you made it out alive. But the other part of me is not._

 _Which part is that?_ He quickly replied back through a text.

She didn't respond. Seconds later, however, a new text arrived and it intrigued him to say the least.

 _When things seem linear and simplistic they usually are the opposite. What we know is right and wrong is defined for us by people above us. Their agenda is complex but understand, Castle. Just know that much. And as always, watch your back._

His phone immediately sprang to life and he knew it would. It wasn't another text or a call from Kate.

He answered his phone. "Castle."

"Report in immediately. No detours."

"Who is this?"

"The office of Director William Bracken."

Well, that was kind of expected, thought Castle. They had obviously been monitoring Castle's phone and someone had seen the text he had received from Kate. The next possible target could be the number one in the agency and that was William Bracken.

"Where is the location? HQ at Langley?"

"The director has left for his home and will meet you there."

Ten minutes later Castle was driving towards east side Dupont and the roads had become slimmer and winding down to a one way street. The area he was in was covered in forestry and the houses he passed looked to be owned by the richest and most powerful people in D.C.

William Bracken's house was built on top of a hill that overlooked a huge lake and in the distance mountains were protruding from the fault lines of the earth. It was a view that would cost a lot of money. He approached a concrete wall that had been setup forty feet in front of the house and the front gate was made in a way where only one car was allowed to pass in a single line. The Bracken property looked to be about three acres with a swimming pool, basketball court, and what looked like a horse stable.

He arrived at the gate and provided his credentials and the guards confirmed his appointment. They thoroughly searched his car inside and out before they let him pass. Except his car had to stay put and he had to walk the rest of the way.

The guards looked like they could take punch and had some combat years on them but it didn't faze Castle as he said, "This car means a lot to me. Make sure it's here when I get back."

The stone faced guards didn't respond and their faces looked the same.

Castle had to give up his gun and he knew why so he didn't complain. Without his gun he felt almost naked as he walked up to the huge property.

Once he arrived at the front door there were guards stationed there as well. He was searched once more and then admitted to the house.

It was early in the morning but he knew that the Director was not worried about his lack of sleep. His second in command had been killed by a bullet to the head and that would even stress Castle out.

He was led to a small library which had enormous shelfs lined up against the wall. The books looked like they had been read and placed in a manner of importance rather than alphabetically. There was a Persian rug placed in the middle of the room and a desk right at the end of the room with a window behind it. The desk lamp was turned on and the chair was pointed at the desk as well.

On the chair sat William Bracken. He was in a dark purple shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of slacks. His collar was undone and a coffee mug was placed right next to his right hand.

He looked up and saw Castle enter. He motioned towards a chair and said, "Coffee, I presume?"

"That would be great. Thanks."

The man who had accompanied Castle to the library disappeared to probably fill in the request made by Bracken. Castle sat in a chair and took in the man who led the agency he worked for.

He looked around the age of fifty five and his hair was starting to turn all gray. He looked fit for his age but his waist was thick and his hands displayed the number of years he had spent on the field. They were filled with dark circles and veins popping out of the aged skin. But the real story was on his face. It was a story of a man who had been through a lot and had made decisions that many would crumble under. Good or bad decisions, Castle didn't know. He was still the head so he had done some things right. His lips were cracked and pencil thin and he made no attempts to hide them. it was a face that didn't smile often and Castle knew that Bracken wasn't exactly the humorous type.

The concierge returned with two cups of coffee and placed it in front of them. He left closing the door behind them.

Bracken pressed a button on the desk lamp which looked like a power switch but instead a loud humming noise filled the room. The windows in the room started to disappear as a metal frame came from the inside the window sills covering them up. The door had been covered with a metallic frame as well. Castle was a spy and he didn't feel like James Bond often but this felt like he was scene in one of the movies.

There was a purpose behind the closure of the room and a very legitimate one. Someone could be listening in so the room had been transformed into an SMF. A Secure Metallic Facility. This meant that what Castle was about to hear was considered the highest level of intelligence that most likely even the President wasn't even aware of.

Bracken locked his eyes with Castle and just examined him for a few moments.

"She has contacted you numerous times now," he said finally in a spiteful way. "These stupid text messages are trash. Makes me laugh that she doesn't want to kill you and I hope you realize that all of it is an elaborate ploy to take your guard down."

Castle just looked back at him in an unfazed manner. He almost never showed his true emotions. It made you weak in these scenarios. "It might be a ploy and I know it is. However, there is nothing I can do about the messages. Even your own people can't track her."

"That's true. Even the NSA is flabbergasted by the amount of encryption she's using and that means she had this all planned out quite well."

"She's communicating with me. That could lead us somewhere. She's bound to make a mistake now and she has already made one. Communicating with me is one of them."

"She's playing a game of chess, Castle. Make you think one way and then take you out another way. Reports on her indicate she's rather manipulative and make people do things for her once she gets into your head."

"She blew up a cottage I was in. Not a vote of confidence in my book."

"And after that she tells you that _she's glad you're alive?_ _Telling you to watch your back?_ _Right and wrong being governed by the higher ups?_ This is classic manipulation to gain your trust. She wants to appear innocent and weak. This whole thing makes me want to kill her myself."

"She's allowed to say whatever she wants. That doesn't change the mission I was assigned now does it?" asked Castle taking a sip of his coffee.

Bracken stared at him with eyes that could pierce through heads. He was looking for Castle to shiver and he wasn't getting anything from him. "Coonan was a loyal and a good man. So was Josh."

"So you knew Josh Davidson?" asked Castle.

"No, I did not know him personally. But I know he didn't deserve to get shot in the head."

"Of course," said Castle

"You think like her, Castle," said Bracken. "Take me into her mind."

Castle didn't respond immediately. He carefully thought about what Bracken had said and didn't really have an answer.

"From a technical point of view I can tell you how she would go about her tasks and methodology. However, I don't have an idea why she went rogue. I don't actually know enough about her to warrant a good theory."

"She's mowing past grass fields and leaving nothing behind. You shouldn't either."***

"I have been to the vantage points she had taken her shots from."

"And had dinner with an FBI agent who is in charge of the investigation from their end. Do you not see a conflict between the two of you?"

"This mission wasn't exactly a choice for me to take on. And the FBI is an entity that I don't think I can control either."

"Carry on."

"I have also gone to Kate's cottage on the Eastern Shore."

Bracken nodded. "I heard that you almost died a fiery death because of that. Saw the footage myself. You need to raise your game, Castle. If you don't then she's going to walk all over you and kill you in the process. But, still you come recommended by many and I don't want to read that she got the best of you."

Castle stared at Bracken and took in the man who was sitting in a library room with guards all over the house and a forty feet tall barricade surrounding the house.

Castle knew Bracken. He was an agent first but he did what Josh had done as an analyst. Collect info and not set foot on a field which was likely to take your life. Then he became a politician. The very thing that many agents grow to hate over time. Bracken, because of his experience in covert operations, was then assigned higher positions in special agencies. He would only watch others die while he sat their contemplating what strategic move the agency could take next in the name of democracy.

Drone technology had changed the game for every facet of US defense and had helped saved countless teams lives. But not everything could be solved or handled by a drone. Foreign countries weren't big fans of the US using drone missiles on their soil and that is where people like Castle came in.

What bothered Castle the most was that here was this man behind a desk. Thinking that what they did was exactly the same as what agents like Castle did on the field. It wasn't the same.

Analyst info was crucial. But not the same as putting your life on the line and pulling the trigger.

"Tell me something, Castle. Am I being unfair in my assessment of you not trying to your potential?" asked Bracken in a patronizing tone.

"Fairness has nothing to do with this," replied Castle.

"That's nice to hear. Saves us time not kissing ass."

Castle looked around the room. "Since we are here in a secure room with no prying eyes and ears. Why do you think all of this is happening?"

"Beckett went rogue. And someone is feeding lies to her."

"Who do you think that person might be? The agency must have something by now."

"The answer might lie in the missions she has done over the last year."

"Her last mission. She didn't kill her target obviously."

"Samoor Ali?"

Castle nodded in agreement. "The answer might not be complicated as we think it is."

"Explains Josh. But not Coonan."

"Maybe we should look at Coonan's past and find whether he had any relation with Ali. Or maybe Coonan was behind the mission to kill Ali?"

Bracken looked around his room and his expression told Castle that he didn't trust the room they were in despite the metallic walls that had rolled up. The weight of this conversation was huge.

Castle went on, "If you think I am asking for information above my pay grade then by all means you don't need to answer. We can quit this discussion as well."

"Then you coming all this way would be of no use. Hell even giving you this case is enough to give you clearance on classified information."

"Then tell me, was Coonan involved?"

"In my awareness of his decisions…" began Bracken before Castle raised his hand to stop him. He felt like a parent telling a child to stop rambling.

"You're not testifying in front of Congress, Director Bracken. Tell me a straight answer whether Coonan was involved or not. Complete answer or nothing."

"Coonan was involved in foreign operations, but he had no involvement with the Samoor Ali mission," said Bracken who had sat up after Castle's interruption of his original comment. He quickly realized that Castle wasn't a pushover.

"Ignoring Samoor, what else can we possibly look at? We need something to connect Josh and Coonan."

"Castle, look what is in front of you. The bare minimum fact is that Kate has killed two of our operatives and could we possibly theorize that she has some bizarre fantasy that has made her lose her rational mind. She was working with Josh and could have easily set him up. Now he's dead and Coonan was the obvious choice. He's the number two in charge. She takes him down and it does immense damage to the agency and weakens us against our enemies. It could just be a case of her losing her god damn mind."

"I don't think so."

"And why is that?" asked Bracken in an agitated tone. This man did not like being questioned and patronized to say the least.

"Because anyone can do that. Beckett is a rarity and she wouldn't do something like this for no reason."

"I don't know the complete history between the two of you but I don't think you know her well. It has been a long time since the two of you even talked."

"That's true but I can assure you that the little connection Kate and I shared left me an impression of her. It was intense and we had gone through enough shit to know that you have known each other for an eternity."

"Change is inevitable, Castle. And people change like the four seasons every year."

"I agree."

"What's your point then?"

"That she has been planning this for a long time. This was her plan all along."

"You're basing on that actual info or just your gut feeling?"

"Think about it. If she were working for someone else then she would have ignored me completely. Why communicate with me? To confuse me? _Sure_ but she could have left blatant evidence that could have led to me halfway around the world too. And if she were under someone else's control then I doubt her hypothetical employer would have enjoyed her text messages to me. She can't risk exposing the whole plan and I think this is personal."

"This is what she could have wanted you to think. Make you relax and drop your game a bit. Don't get seduced too easily, Castle."

"Trust me, sir. I have thought about that possibility as well and all of this still doesn't add up."

"Then what is her final play then? What is the conclusion to her little escapade? We are talking and going in circles and going nowhere."

"Homework needs to be done. By me, of course, and the connection between Josh and Coonan would be good start."

"If there is even one."

"Proceed with caution, sir."

This made Bracken pay attention, "I am listening."

"Looking at her pattern. She has gone from the bottom all the way to the top. Maybe it's her way of tricking us."

"That means more targets."

"There will be more."

"Hopefully you're wrong."

"I won't be. She's an assassin and a lethal one at that. The only way to stop her is if she meets a force that can repel her."

"You were saying something caution?"

"Kate could potentially target the agency leaders."

"That would be me."

"And you would be right."

"Lots security outside and I am in a house that could easily be a maze. Plus my first home is Langley."

"Coonan would have said the same thing."

"Mine is better."

"But Beckett is the best," replied Castle.

"The irony is great here. We gave her the skills and now she's using it against her own country," said Bracken.

"But you gave her one set of skill and it's quite possibly the most deadliest skill in her arsenal."

"What is that skill?"

"Courage. Many think they have it but most of them are wrong."

"You have that too, Castle."

"I am going to need every ounce of it then."

* * *

To say the drive back home was filled with anxiety would be an understatement. It took about thirty minutes for Castle to get home because the roads lay empty at this early in the morning. But in his head it felt like eternity.

His mind was still going too fast for him to slow it down and think about things.

The conversation between Bracken and him was still circulating in his head and he really didn't know what to make of it.

The lovely text messages he had received from Kate confirmed his suspicion the she was a lone wolf in her perusal crusade. This had personal written all over it. You don't almost kill your target and then text them later saying "hey, my bad. Sorry I almost got you killed." But Bracken was right about one thing, she was messing with his head. The text messages meaning of right and wrong, to watch his back, were tactics that both of them had been trained to do. She had also used the classic 'don't trust your agency' cliché as well. She knew her stuff no doubt about that.

The level of training the two of them had received was almost the same. They came up through the same system that had grown them up to become lethal weapons. They had gone through the same ranking system and in some ways the same person separated by gender. Yet they were different. Castle wouldn't have texted his advisory. He would have taken the straight route to his goal.

It was possible that she had changed. However, it was also possible that she had always been the same person.

He arrived at his apartment complex, found a parking spot, and rode the elevator in complete silence. He didn't get out of the elevator straight and checked slowly for any signs of danger. There was none. He opened his door and then punched in his four digit code.

His head felt weary so coffee was in order so he put on a pot of coffee and made himself a Nutella sandwich. He liked to eat chocolate when nothing was making sense. He took a tray which had his coffee mug and Nutella sandwich and sat next to the huge window in his living room. It had started to rain again but he didn't mind as it provided a much needed distraction as he ate his sandwich. The rain would make traffic a living hell for the morning travelers and the lack of sunshine over the past few days wouldn't help either.

He took out the gray object that he had found on the tree during his observation of the Coonan crime scene and examined it again. The whole object was almost shattered but it was still holding itself together. He needed to find out what it was as he had found two of them in the locations Kate had chosen to shoot from.

If he had found one of them then it would have just been a coincidence.

But finding two of them was enough to raise alarm bells.

Kate had left them there for a reason.

The kettle was sitting next to the sandwich plate and he poured himself another hot one. He walked towards his desk and turned on his laptop. Josh Davidson's whole life was on Castle's desktop. Every single significant event was spread out like a vine on the document and he could click on specific events for more information.

To someone on the street it would have been an exciting life but to Castle it was mediocre at best. Josh had started as an analyst and soon had become a handler. Never had fired a gun and prior to getting shot he had never been hurt in the line of duty for his country.

He was responsible for the deaths of many people but had never pulled trigger. Nothing wrong with that because without people like Josh it would have taken years to complete a single mission.

According to the agent history Josh had worked with Beckett for a grant total of five times. The five missions had spanned four years and all of them had gone accordingly without a single error. The targets had been taken out clearly and Kate had come home without a scratch.

There was no mention of a romantic relationship either between the two of them. It seemed the two hadn't even seen each other's face much less pursue a romantic one. And it was true in Castle's situation as well. He had never met any of his handlers either. There was a wall between the field and handlers that the agency had erected for they wanted little to no contact between them. If they knew each other on a personal basis then the chances of being targeted increased and many people in the agency could barely run a mile much less withstand torture techniques.

Josh's personal life didn't show any reason for worry so this conflict between him and Kate had to be something that was given birth on a professional level.

Many missions ended up successful, no problems of misconduct, and the result had been Beckett putting a bullet in Josh's head. There was nothing of actual significance in Josh's file and he opened the enormous file named Dick Coonan instead.

Dick Coonan was a man engraved in the military ever since he started in the intelligence sector. His smart intellect and good decision making skills had not been ignored and soon he was on the way up the ladder. He was the next in line to take over the reins that William Bracken would leave behind unless the president elected a complete no body from Congress who had zero knowledge about the covert world.

Coonan was basically the PR of the agency to a certain degree. When he had taken his office, he was viewed as more hands on and only through him were some missions given the green light. At some levels he was the one spear heading campaigns against notorious enemies of the state.

One question came to mind and that was who would replace him? Would anyone be brave enough to take the spot knowing what had happened to the predecessor?

Castle moved the vine that had all of Coonan's history back to the time where he was still a soldier in the Navy. From the Navy he had worked strategically to move up the chain and then finally come over to the intelligence community.

This was a man that didn't have many faults according to Castle. He was almost too clean. Especially for a man in his position.

The vine ended and Castle sat back in his seat.

 _Then why kill him, Kate?_ Thought Castle. He looked at the personal angle and there was no connection between the two. Like Bracken had said, Coonan had no hands in the Samoor mission. The only thing Coonan did was give it the green light and that was like giving a stamp on an outgoing letter. Castle had scanned the document and found no evidence that Kate and Coonan had worked together on any capacity.

He was about to close the file and then suddenly the sky exploded with a thunderous boom which startled Castle. He accidentally hit some keys which messed up his desktop and it became filled with stuff that he didn't understand.

 _Fuck_.

He couldn't exit out of anything and tried hitting some keys to change the format the documents had become.

He almost hit some random keys when suddenly his eyes saw a word at the bottom of the page that was written in the lightest color he had ever seen on a screen.

 _/deleted_

It was as though it was ghost word that wasn't supposed to be there.

He saw another one at the end of the next page.

Luckily the search function was still working and doing a quick search revealed twenty seven instances of the word deleted.

He did the same with Josh's file and there were twenty five instances of the word _/deleted_.

Castle took a deep breath and scratched the beard that had grown on his face the past few days.

Censorship was expected at the highest level but this was a document that was completely wiped clean of actual data that could potentially lead to a breakthrough. He didn't know who was responsible for the censorship and it could be anyone from Bracken down to another agency that he didn't know even existed.

He re-opened Kate's file and did the same search with results that he didn't expect. There was almost too many for the pdf file opener to even count.

 _Take this case, Castle._

 _You're the lead, Castle._

 _Failure is not an option, Castle._

And they had given him a mission where half the data was classified. They had essentially misled and lied to him about the whole thing.

He took out his phone and decided to call Gates. He stopped just as he was about to hit the call button.

He remembered what Gates had sounded like the last time he had called her. She had really wanted him to come in and get his burns checked out by actual doctors. However, she had given him another location that he hadn't known or heard of. This made him wonder whether her concern for his injuries were even genuine.

One thing had come clear to Castle. There was something going on within the agency that Castle had no idea about and he wondered if even Gates did.

He slowly got up and walked to his window. The weather in D.C. had turned even darker than previous days. It was perfectly symbolic of the situation he was facing. He wondered whether the rain would help him understand things better.

It helped him decide that he had to meet Gates again but he wouldn't mention what he had come across in the documents. He wanted to play this whole thing and watch it from a third person view. He wanted to know for sure what team Gates was playing for. For the first time in his career he was doubtful of Gates true intentions.

He couldn't think clearly at all when it came to Kate and he was having doubts about her too.

Doubt that could get him killed if he went along with it.

 _Don't take it personally, Castle_ , she had said.

What she didn't realize was that it had become more personal than she could imagine. This was her personal vendetta against a monolith organization. And he was the one right smack in the middle of it.

* * *

Castle had decided to take a small trip to a store to find out something that could prove to be crucial. Or not. But he had to cover all his bases. Just as he was about to turn his car onto the main street his phone started beeping. He looked at the person calling and his face fell.

It wasn't Kate.

Wasn't Gates or Shaw either.

It was a person who had called him almost forty times the past few months and he had decided to ignore it hoping the person would get a hint.

He hit the answer prompt out of reflex.

"Hello…"

"What the hell, Rick. What kind of game are you playing with me asshole?"

Alexis Rodgers sounded as though someone had thrown rain water on her and kept throwing it till she had finally lost it. She seemed pissed off. And their last meeting had been an argument as well. A heated one. That had ended in her losing whatever trust she had in him. But she had still called. Forty times.

He didn't blame her considering the promise he had made her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"When someone leaves you forty voicemails and countless emails you should know that it's a sign that person wants to communicate with you."

"How's life, kid?"

"What do you think? Hellish."

"Really?" he asked in a worried tone.

"No, Rick. I am lying. Life is treating me too well right now. Kevin Ryan was just as advertised in the adoptive parent's catalog. He's too good and I feel like mother Teresa is his wife."

"That's good I guess. The more normal the better for you."

"But…if you had answered your damn phone then you would have known, Huh, Rick!"

"I lead a busy life. Full of busy things that make me busier than usual."

There was silence after that and he knew what was coming.

"You bailed on me you know that right? I went to your old house and no one was there. I waited in the rain for hours at the house on six different days. Until someone was nice enough to tell me you had moved. Then the only thing I could do was call you. I called you almost every day and you never answered. Today was the last day I was going to call before I gave up and here we are."

"Alexis please understand…"

"No, stop talking, Rick. You made me a promise that day that you wouldn't leave me out to dry. I take that shit seriously and god knows why I trusted you. You know how hard that is, Rick? Trust someone after everything my parents had put me through? You let me drown, Castle. And you weren't there to pull me up."

"You started a new life, Alexis. If I had come back then more danger would have come your way. Wherever I go death follows suit. Your parents are proof of that."

"But a promise is a promise at the end of the day. And you made me believe in them again. You seemed like a man who would keep his word. I guess I was wrong."

"I only bring sorrow, Alexis. It was for your own good," said Castle on the brink.

"You should have let me be the judge of that, Rick. It wasn't your choice to make."

"Alexis, you're fifteen years old. Too young to make a judgement call like that and make life choices for that matter."

"That's your opinion."

"Hate me all you want. Shower me with your curses. Tell me I am worst human being alive. But you'll one day realize it was for the best."

"Not a lot of thinking needed. You're a dick and a liar."

"I know. Most people would agree."

He felt like biggest asshole right now.

"Please be quiet okay," said Alexis in weary tone. "Just don't leave forever okay. I don't need every day. Just once a month meetup would be okay too."

"Alexis…I can't…"

"You're the only one that understands, Rick. Please don't abandon the last hope you and I have for some sort of peace."

The line went dead.

He felt horrible and Alexis was right in calling him an asshole and a dick. He had told Alexis the truth that she would be in danger. She could lead a life that was safe and normal.

For the very first time his heart and mind were in agreement.

He needed to do something.

* * *

Castle accelerated through the wet streets of Dupont and arrived at the store he had been searching for. He got out of his car and went inside the store which greeted him with a host of flowery smells. Allergies were one thing that Castle hadn't been blessed with thankfully otherwise his body would have seized by now.

He spotted the counter and walked towards it avoiding the sea of potted plants that lined the floor. He pulled out the gray object he had found at the vantage points and placed it on the counter. The young girl behind the counter looked at the gray objects with keen interest.

"I know this might be a strange question. But, do you know what kind of flower this is?"

The young girl was too busy checking Castle out that she had forgotten about the gray object on the counter. Castle raised his eyebrows and pointed to the counter.

"Oh yeah…Umm…I have no idea. I work part time here. The only thing I can tell you is that it's not a flower. Please wait and I'll call my manager," she said in a shaky tone.

Castle had now become a teenage crush without his consent.

The part timer scrambled back into the back room and a few seconds later an older women stepped out wearing glasses. She looked like the owner and indeed she was as the tag on her chest said as much.

"How may I help you today?" she asked in polite manner.

Castle asked the same question and the woman looked at the petals that were on the brink of destruction. She observed them closely and then took a strong whiff.

"This is definitely a white rose," she said confidently. "I know its gray in color but it looks it has been colored in using a small dye. You can see the inside of the petal and it shows the true color and the reddish color on its end confirms it. I have a batch of something similar if you wish to buy some."

"Maybe later," replied Castle. "If you don't mind me asking another question. Why would one buy white roses?"

"Well, they are mostly for weddings and they symbolize a host of things. Virginity, goodness, purity, and you know other things that symbolize 'being clean'."

Castle looked at the younger employee and she was red as a tomato in the face.

"It's very interesting though," the old woman added.

"What is?" asked Castle

"White roses are used at funerals too. They can signify death as a passing on to a white light rather than darkness," she paused. "But you see the gray dye is what makes this the opposite. Nothing to do with godliness."

"They gray dye? What do you mean?"

"If you follow Greek mythology then the gray dye on a white rose means that it is not something given out of love. And the red at the end of the petal brings it all together."

"What?"

The gray petal disintegrated into the air as the old woman blew it away from Castle's direction.

"The red is blood. The gray represents the dead. And the white is a death bed."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned. And unexpected car chases.

* * *

After buying a bouquet of flowers for helping Castle understand the meaning behind the roses. He quickly left the store feeling agitated and anger rising within him. This new information had opened a whole new can of worms. It certainly had made things messy while clearing some in the process. He now knew for sure that Kate had left behind roses at both scenes and his agency had tampered with the scene afterwards. The files were not the only things that had been censored. But they missed some petals in the process.

He remembered the text Kate had written to him about to watch his back and how there were many motives on the table. People on the same team but with different agendas. Castle was starting to believe in Kate more than what 'facts' he was being presented by the agency. She was more right than wrong from where he stood now.

Gates had given him a new location to report in and he ended somewhere along South east Virginia. This area was on the outskirts of the D.C. area and it fashioned long grass fields, town houses, horses running around freely, and in the middle a relatively mid-sized town center that gave home to the modern stores and restaurants. The stores were mostly aligned towards farming needs as Castle saw people coming out of the stores with bags of fertilizer and seeds.

Castle drove ten miles further south and then came across a rocky road which led to a facility that only some town folk where aware of. The big warning sign was enough for many to turn back but Castle drove on till he reached a steel gate and saw two men who wore army gear while holding Ak-47's in their hands. This was a place that wasn't meant to be trespassed upon.

Castle showed the guards the necessary identification and moments later he was led through the steel gate that had slid open. The building didn't look too extraordinary and looked like a home to a small exporting goods company.

He found a spot to park his car and then strolled towards the main entrance. He was asked for his fingerprints and after approval the door swung open for him to walk through. There was pa ale white woman in pointy framed glasses waiting for him and Castle looked at her credentials that were stuck on the left side of her chest.

The badge on her chest only displayed her last name and a seven digit number which he presumed was her ID number.

"Richard Castle?" she asked.

"Bingo," he replied.

She led Castle to an examination room and then left him inside closing the door behind her. Just as the door closed he heard a clicking sound which he assumed meant the door was locked. They didn't want him wandering the halls alone and stumbling onto something that was above his paygrade. The door opened again and in walked a black female with a slender but bordering on curvy figure. She looked to be in early thirties, dark black hair that reached her shoulders, and a light red lipstick to accompany her makeup. She was wearing a lab coat and that meant she would be treating him. The badge on her left coat pocket had the name Dr. Lanie Parish embossed on it.

"So you must be Mr. Castle? You're the Mr. Terminator we have been expecting the last few days. Your chart tells me that you received injuries?"

"Nothing that's too harmful."

"That's what all of you say. Now where is the damage?"

"Left leg and arm. Mostly my leg though."

"Take off your clothes if you don't mind."

She turned around and started meddling with the necessary materials as Castle took off his jacket, shirt, pants, and boots. He sat back on the treatment table as Lanie took a seat on a rolling chair and started examining his body for the damage it had suffered.

"What the hell? You think these burns aren't serious? Boy, these are almost second degree burns. I am surprised you aren't screaming like a banshee right now."

"They don't hurt. I am being honest."

Lanie rolled her eyes and said, "Of course they don't. You fools could get hit by a spikey baseball bat and still think you're okay. Did you at least clean the burns?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am? I am only thirty two you big bear. Good job cleaning the wounds."

"Thank you…Dr. Parish."

She squinted her eyes at him and said, "They need some work obviously. Otherwise you'll be dead of infection by Friday."

"And that's why I am here annoying you."

"No, you're not annoying. Just…something that I can't put my finger on," she said. "Going to give you some meds that will ease the pain and infection as well. While we are it you need to get a shot too just in case."

"Whatever you say."

"I must say you don't complain much unlike the other ones I have treated. They don't stop acting tough. Especially this one woman who just won't stop and I had to force her by bribing her with a bear claw and a coffee believe it or not."

"Where is she now? Have you met again?" asked Castle intrigued.

"She usually comes every month or so and we actually end up hanging out sometimes. Nice girl and a good heart on her. Just seemed lost a lot of times," she replied slowly putting a needle in Castle's left arm.

This was entirely new to him as agency employees barely knew each other and he was sure this was something that the higher ups would be aware of. Why they didn't interfere he didn't know.

"Do you work in this facility full time?"

"Oh, hell no. Have you seen how depressing this place is? I just come whenever they are understaffed and the woman I am talking about was actually my first patient too here."

"What is her name? And how did you meet outside the facility…I am sorry. I am overstepping my boundary."

"No, you're okay. You seem trustworthy enough," said Lanie with a small smile and replaced the old bandage with a new one.

"Thanks, I guess."

"I met her at the town center bar. She recognized my face and we ended up talking about life. Conversation ends and I was devastated that a woman that beautiful hadn't gotten any action in a while," she said with a quiet laugh. "Forced her to dance and I would never forget how on that night she seemed genuinely happy."

"What's her name if you don't mind me asking?"

"Nope. I have said enough already. Doctor Patient rule applies from here."

"I understand."

They sat in silence as Lanie worked quickly around his burns knowing exactly what needed to be done. She was good with her hands as he barely felt any pain at all.

"Do you work at the local hospital?"

"Trauma mostly. The morgue too. Not that many doctors around this part of the state. We have to make do with what we are dealt with."

"Trauma? So you have seen the worst of it then."

"Mostly broken bones and concussions but a few gunshots here and there," said Lanie. "Speaking of which you've had a reasonable amount of gun shots on your body too."

She looked at the most prominent scar and traced her finger alongside the edges. "Looks like a forty five."

"Nine-mill, actually. I was lucky. The shooter had me on my knees and his gun jammed all of a sudden."

She looked a little troubled by what he had said. "Do you get lucky in your line of work?"

"Sometimes. Most times it's how well you have planned it out. But mostly luck escapes us."

"Never play with luck, huh," said Lanie in a quiet tone.

"Never."

They spent the next few hours just rambling about things that didn't matter. Sports. Local events. And what shenanigans the local high school students would get up to for a senior prank.

"It was a penis drawing wasn't it?"

"All boys are the same," she replied.

She was a good person and with a heart that would accept many broken souls. Perhaps even show them a way out towards happiness.

"Well, almost done here. The pills will be outside and take them three times a day. I hope you realize how lucky you are. Any more damage and you were looking at plastic surgery."

"I know."

"Are you going to show up again?"

"Do you do autopsies in this facility?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Then I think I'll be good."

"Well that's good to hear. But do come again and visit the town center sometime."

"I'll try my best to be in one piece then."

"You do that."

"So where is my next stop, Dr. Parish?"

"That I do not know. My job is done here. Someone should come in and escort you," said Lanie packing up her things. "You take care now, Castle. No more burn and bullet wounds from now."

"Understood," replied Castle as he tried to make a thumbs up sign with his left hand and then realized it wasn't possible. "Thanks for fixing me."

"Any day," said Lanie with a smile and exited the room leaving Castle to wonder who the agent was that had struck up a friendly relationship with the good doctor.

His internal clock estimated that four minutes had passed and then the door clicked open again.

Walked in was a person that he had last seen face to face when he had been assigned Beckett's case.

Victoria Gates walked in wearing a black pantsuit, black heels, and hair groomed to perfection.

Even with the highly professional look he knew that something was wrong with Gates. Her face told an entirely new story.

Which could mean only things were about to change for Castle.

Good or bad. He didn't know.

* * *

Kate was once again on the move. You kept moving when an entire organization wanted your head.

She was never the person to stick to one place and moved whenever she got the chance.

From the hotel she had taken a cab and then gotten off to walk instead. She liked to be on her feet if there was a tail on her. In a cab her life rested on the cabbie and she didn't like trusting her life to a chain smoking man grumbling about how Uber was the worst thing to humanity.

The day had started off warm but was now cooling off because of the rain that had passed through the city. That meant a trench coat was necessary and a hundred other people had the same idea as well. It was hard to find a person in a sea of people wearing identical trench coats and umbrellas.

She had worn glasses as well even though the sun was covered behind heavy looking clouds.

She had been waiting for a car to show up and it finally rolled up to the street curb. It was a Mercedes S-Class and the man who was driving the car went by the name Kevin Ryan. A self-made millionaire who started his own security firm and made an app where event managers and even individuals could get their own security personal. He looked to be in his late-thirties and his hair were the lightest of black color. But the person sitting next to him warranted Kate's attention more.

Fifteen, slightly muscular, long red hair, and striking blue eyes.

The Mercedes stopped near a stop sign and the teenager got out of the car to reveal her entire self. She wore skinny jeans, a slightly bigger shirt than her whole upper body, and some sneakers. She wore a large backpack with books bundled up in her hands. The weight of the backpack itself looked heavier than the kid.

Alexis Rodgers looked like any other teen that was about to go to class.

She stopped midway and looked back at the car and gave Kevin Ryan a small wave with a smile. She turned around and walked away while the Mercedes pulled away into the traffic.

From what she had read and observed herself. Kevin Ryan loved his step daughter and treated her as though god himself had presented him a gift. The Ryan family had tried for a baby but after two miscarriages it was time to move on. In came Alexis and they had felt as though they had been a given another chance at being parents.

She turned her attention back to Alexis who was the main person of interest.

Kate observed the entire area around her and looked for any suspicious individuals. They couldn't have reached this far but she needed to proceed with caution.

There was no one watching Alexis expect for her. She quickly took out her phone and took a picture of Alexis entering the school.

School ended at 4 pm for these kids and she knew that Alexis's ride home would be in a bus rather than a Mercedes.

Kate would come back at three forty five, fifteen minutes before the school freed the tired students to go home.

She watched closely as Alexis entered the school hallways and she then turned around and walked away herself.

Her next location was a crime scene she was responsible for. She wasn't going there to disrupt the scene or tamper with whatever evidence she could have left behind. But it was simply to observe a person that she knew would be there.

She arrived at her destination where the crime scene was covered in investigators, mostly FBI, while barricades surrounded the area.

There was a coffee shop nearby and she ordered a Grande skim latte, two pumps sugar free vanilla with of course a bear claw and some mints as well. She took the newspaper out of a stand and sat at a table looking nothing out of the ordinary.

A woman had arrived on the scene and Beckett was unfazed by her sudden appearance as she took a sip of her coffee.

Jordan Shaw was the one talking to her agents that were under her command and signed some documents at the same time. Shaw looked at the building that had housed and killed Josh Davidson and then looked at the direction where Kate had taken the shot.

Kate knew that Shaw wasn't a cakewalk and could probably gather all the evidence from both scenes. She would then break her head over it and then find the killer who had done it. But this time she won't. She had the no doubt the smarts to get Kate but there will be agencies in her way that will use everything in their ammo to stop her from getting to the truth.

Kate understood the one fact that she faced. The agency would get to her first before the FBI could even know of her existence or she could finish her job and disappear forever.

She wasn't scared of almost anything that resembled a human being. She wasn't scared of Super Agent Shaw. And she wasn't scared of the FBI either.

There were only two things that scared her.

She was scared of the monolith agency she had worked for and was now hunting her down.

And most of all. Castle.

He was the only variable in this whole scenario that stuck out like a thorn.

She was also afraid that her mission would fail. It was the single biggest thing that has defined her entire existence if she was being honest.

She took out her phone and lined up a camera shot of Shaw while pretending to be on the phone.

She knew exactly where Shaw lived and she had taken the pleasure of taking a tour of her condo as well. Shaw wasn't married and wasn't exactly looking for a soulmate either. Apparently she took the phrase 'married to your work' too seriously.

Just like me I suppose.

Shaw had a thing for Castle. And it was pretty blatantly obvious.

This was a good thing for Kate but not for Castle. And she knew that Castle was aware that any type of relationship was a weakness for him that she can use against him.

Kate looked down at her coffee and started to put together the list of events that had happened. Castle had received burns that needed treatment so he must have gone to a secure facility. Coonan was dead. That meant Castle was summoned by the higher ups. That could only mean one person above Coonan.

William Bracken.

Kate walked out the coffee store keeping her head down and waved for a cab. Her next destination was a rental car shop and as the cab merged into the traffic she looked at Shaw once more standing behind the barricades. Shaw immediately turned around and looked towards the cab. The windows were tinted so Kate's face was not visible from the outside but the Shaw continued to stare. The cabbie pulled away leaving Shaw in the rear view.

She rented a small BMW and drove to one of the most famous courthouses in the state of Virginia.

The United States Courthouse stood in front of her. The enormous architectural achievement mesmerized many but for all intends and purposes it was place strictly used to hand down justice. It was a place where the guilty were convicted and some innocently convicted people were given another rightful chance at life.

Kate had doubt that courthouses meant anything these days. If there was actual justice being served than nearly all of Wall Street would be in jail overnight. She knew the system wasn't perfect but it had been influenced enough that it had only become a matter of how much wealth a person has.

Kate understood one thing that she had grown up to learn.

There were consequences for some actions.

There was an individual in the courthouse who had taken an action and she was the consequence.

She parked her car at a curb across the courthouse and patiently waited for almost an hour leaving the engine running. There was little to no parking anywhere near the courthouse and she was lucky to find the perfect spot overlooking the entrance of the courthouse.

Clouds had gathered above her and soon small water drops were starting to fall on her windshield. She didn't care as her eyes were locked with the revolving door at the entrance. And finally after what seemed longer than an hour five men walked out the courthouse door.

The only person that she cared about was the oldest one. She wondered why he hadn't listened to the warnings he had probably received by now. With age came wisdom and apparently not in this man's case.

The old man Kate had been eyeing had was gray haired with hints of black, tall, muscular, and small eyes that were hard to read. He cracked a joke which made the rest of the men laugh and reaching the end of the stairs the group said their goodbyes and dispersed in the different directions. Beckett's person of interest turned right and walked on with an umbrella over his head.

He went by the name Vulcan Simmons.

The man had become one of the most famous African American judges in recent history as the one judge that everyone knew. That was thanks to the media who had covered his well known cases that had involved serial killers and celebrities. But what many forgot was that he was the one that had let corrupt bankers and political workers walk out innocently when it was a case that was never in their favor. His marriage to a well-known daughter of a well-known tobacco company owner had brought him numerous wealth and had given him luxuries that many judges would dream of in his position.

Simmons had made national news when the Chief Justice of the US Supreme Court had appointed him the chief of the DAA, Defense of America Agency. It was an agency that was responsible for clandestine missions and worked in so much secrecy that not even the President knew of the ongoing operations. Congress didn't interfere either and the DAA never published any documents regarding their operations. There was no accountability and in many ways had become the ultimate agency which bowed to no one. The DAA consisted of eight judges and Simmons had happily agreed to be one of them. He showed his appreciation by allowing every request the DAA had made regarding their operations.

Kate observed Vulcan Simmons closely as he walked past the garage where his car had been parked. This meant he was walking home but it didn't make sense. The town house he owned was miles away and she doubted that Simmons would stoop low and take public metro buses. He wasn't a big fan of mingling with the common people and she assumed by looking at the time he was heading somewhere to eat.

She put her car into drive and drove slowly behind him but at a distance.

The list of the targets she had made for herself popped into her mind.

Vulcan Simmons was target number three.

She had taken care of the people responsible in the intelligence sector and now it was the judiciary department that required her assistance in cleaning.

Simmons had been a fool to walk alone despite it being broad daylight and witnesses everywhere. He should have known better, knowing what had happened to Coonan and Josh.

If he didn't know he was a target then he wasn't even worth taking out.

He must know otherwise it wouldn't make sense.

Something bothered Kate about this whole scenario she was spearheading.

She looked at her rear view mirror and quickly realized that she had made her first and biggest mistake yet.

* * *

After seeing the sedan behind her the obvious solution would have been to speed up or take alternative routes with sharp cuts down several streets. But she decided against both as she got another idea that could be her best chance at survival.

She looked into her rear view mirror and saw two blacked out cars with tinted windows. One was an SUV while the other one was a sedan. She knew both cars had passengers that had weapons fully loaded and ready to fire on her. Both cars were probably in communication on how to approach her too probably.

This was a chess match. And Beckett needed to think five moves ahead and take a leap of faith.

If she accelerated faster or took a detour at this very moment then that would be too predictable. She looked back again through her rear view mirror, acknowledged the traffic surrounding them, and the rain soaked streets as well. She knew where Simmons was and tracked his movements through her peripheral vision.

Counting to five in her head. She didn't accelerate. She slammed on her brakes and going forty miles per hour the brakes sizzled and burned the rubber of the tires making smoke appear under them.

The traffic moved around her and she counted to five again.

She accelerated hard but this time in reverse.

The SUV and Sedan were right behind her as Kate slammed her car into the sedan.

She already knew what the armed guards were communicating inside the two cars.

They were probably surprised and knew Kate was trying to trap them in.

She accelerated forward again and aimed for the front grill of the smaller car.

The sedan moved into the next lane and the SUV took its place.

She could tell what they were communicating now as well.

The SUV would take the impact. She couldn't make out the men but they were probably bracing themselves for the impact by fastening their seatbelts. The collision would take place and the men in the sedan would take out Kate in a hail of bullets.

What they hadn't thought of in their plan was that Kate knew her way around a car. Another advantage she had was that her convertible was easy to handle as well.

She fine-tuned the car settings by turning off any braking and steering assistance and then timing it perfectly aimed for the gap between the SUV and the Sedan. It was as though she was playing a running back in Football and was running towards a small gap her team had made. She pulled out her gun and rolled down the windows automatically as her car burst through the gap. She fired at both the cars rapidly and the rear tire of the SUV burst making the whole car slump backwards. Her car cleared the gap and the SUV collided with the sedan in an effort to stop the gutsy little convertible.

Speed saves lives, kids.

She cleared the gap and Kate accelerated hard doing a quick 180 turn by pulling her handbrake to face the opposite direction. She would have received top marks for this back in her academy days.

She punched the gas once more, turned right on a street, and sped down the alley.

Ten minutes or so later she abandoned the car in a parking lot and walked away with her handbag which had the items that she needed for these situations. The car wouldn't need a wipe down for fingerprints as she always wore gloves when driving.

There was a subway station nearby and soon she was on a train which sped into the underground tunnels taking her away from the mess she had made. Simmons was still alive but she had escaped from an almost certain death.

If this was a mission that would have determined how good she was in these type of scenarios. Then she would have failed. She was the judge in this scenario and had the harshest grading scheme set for herself. It she was being honest then today had been utterly humiliating for her. She had already noted in her head five mistakes she had made that could have potentially killed her.

 _I should be dead._

The outcome of this mission also meant that she needed a different identity again.

Her car had been spotted. They will probably trace it back to the rental and from there they would know the name she has been using, credit card number, and also the driver's license she was using. All the necessary items to track her down. The items were now useless to her.

She thanked her past self that this particular scenario could have played out and had alternatives. This had happened too quickly for her personal liking and this had ramifications that meant there were going to be more hurdles in her path.

The first hurdle was that Vulcan Simmons was now on full alert.

She got off the train and went up a flight of stairs to exit the subway station. She hailed a cab and gave directions to a bank which held a safe box under the fake name she had assigned for herself. The agency was probably aware of that name now and she knew this was a risk but she had to take it. The box contained items such as more fake ID's, blank passports, money, and other documents that she needed. The agency was probably on its way and she left the bank walking towards a cabstand.

The hotel she had booked near the bank was now useless as well. Staying there would make her an easy target and the building itself didn't give her an advantage either. She patiently waited for another cab and got in.

Her next location would be across town. It took a while as the radio in the cab gave warning of heavy traffic of two cars colliding because of a burst tire. She reached her destination in thirty minutes and then walked in the opposite direction.

All the measures she was taking right now would annoy a lot of people but in the world she operated in this was the bare minimum.

A hotel came into view and she checked into it with a new identity. She went up to her room, checked for any devices that could have been setup, looked out the window for any unmarked vehicles, and then unloaded some items from her bag.

She sat on down on the edge of her bed and took off her shirt which revealed that she hadn't escaped the predicament without a scratch. A bullet had managed to find its way through all the chaos and had ripped through her shirt but had only left a scratch wound from it whizzing by and embedding itself in a door.

It could have been worse, she thought.

The heat from the wound made her wheeze a little as she took out a first aid kit to clean the wound. She didn't mind the scratch leaving a scar as she was used to it by now. She had scars that made this one look like a paper cut in comparison. But it still hurt like hell and there was no escaping that.

She thought about Castle and how he would have unwanted memories of past missions on his body too. She had given him fresh ones as well to ponder over thanks to the cottage bomb she had setup. She was still conflicted internally about what she had done to Castle. He was not on her list but the agency had made him one. Maybe in the next life they could be partners solving mysteries like these but without all the trying to kill each other scenario.

She looked at the clock in her hotel room and realized she had to leave for school soon.

Alexis was waiting for her.

But for now she stared at the rain falling down relentlessly outside the window.

The weather had become grim and matched her current situation perfectly.

The agency had won round 3.

She needed to make sure the match was hers.

* * *

"Well, you look like someone told you that the agency pension system was cancelled and Santa isn't real," said Castle walking next to Gates down a narrow hallway.

"There is no pension to begin with and that's not why I am troubled at the moment."

"Federal employees get pensions last I checked."

"That is just to show good face and get more people to join. Work in our field and you would be lucky to even get a house."

"So where are we heading now?"

"Talk to someone."

"Personal one to one between the two of us?"

"Not this time."

"Who then? I have already listened to Bracken and Coonan is dead."

"You're going to meet the new number two in the agency. At least for the time being."

"That was a fast transition."

"Burn a fire under the government and it works faster."

"Who is this person?"

"I can't say. There have been new rules and standards that have been placed."

"New rules? Coonan and Josh's death change the old ones?"

"No, their deaths were one of the few factors that influenced the decision."

"What else is there? Has something happened that I am not aware of?" asked Castle.

"All of your questions will be answered soon."

Castle wanted to ask another question but restrained himself. It was quite evident that Gates was not in the mood for a Q&A. And he didn't want to question her regarding the crime scenes that had been tampered with. He wondered whether the new number two could answer those questions.

They reached the end of the hall and the door opened with Castle being told to get in. Gates had turned around and left closing the door behind Castle.

Castle looked around the room he was in and it was simplicity at its essence. Just like Kate's house only the absolute necessary furniture was used and a small circular rug had been placed in the middle. There was a round table placed on it with two chairs.

One of them was occupied.

The man that was sitting in front of him was an African American male who looked to be in his late fifties. His face told a story of heavy stress with wrinkles adorning his face quite liberally. He was wearing glasses with a graying hair on his head. This man used to be incredibly handsome at one point in his life but life had other plans for him.

Castle had never seen this individual before. It was an agency that was based on secrecy. Its employees didn't exactly have LinkedIn profiles.

"Have a seat, Mr. Castle."

Castle did as he was told and took a seat in the chair right across the man. He wasn't going to talk as he was the one who had been called upon.

"My name is Roy Montgomery. I have taken over the duties that Mr. Coonan has left."

The agency didn't have time for sympathy apparently as Coonan didn't even deserve an 'unfortunate demise of Mr. Coonan'.

"I have been told there was someone new."

"I have taken the liberty of looking over your files and your recent investigations as well."

This whole conversation taking place didn't make sense to Castle. This was his second bout with a higher up. First Bracken and now his new number two. Was this whole thing planned ahead?

Montgomery stared at him from across the table and his eyes fell on Castle's left arm. "How are you holding up?"

"I was patched up pretty well."

"It was a close call, Mr. Castle."

"Indeed."

"I have seen the footage and with all due respect I don't think you survive another one of those."

"Game of luck and I had won. Not the next time I suppose."

"Your investigation hasn't led to any revelations."

"Working on it. Takes time to solve a mystery of a killer's mind."

"Time is running out in the meantime."

"The files from you guys aren't helpful."

Montgomery leaned forward on the table and said, "Then let's make it a bit more helpful. Katherine Beckett?"

"What about her?"

"My knowledge on her could prove to be helpful."

"I am all ears."

"Then listen carefully," said Montgomery.

Castle straightened up in his seat. "Please, go on."

"There is a reason I have been given this position in the agency."

"And what might that reason be?"

"Everything Kate knows down to her mannerisms. I was the one that helped train her."

* * *

 **Quick Note:** DUN DUN DUN. Just wanted to say a quick thanks to all the people who have left review's, faved, and followed this story. It really motivates me to write better and faster as well.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 *****Content Disclaimer: This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.*****

* * *

Roy Montgomery was staring at Castle after dropping a bomb that he didn't see coming. His eyes seemed to be distant as though he was here in body but not in soul. Certainly the weight of having one of your best students turning rogue would make anyone think twice about the time they had spent together.

Four minutes passed, each feeling like an eternity with just the two of them in the room, and finally Castle decided to speak up.

"Sir?" he asked firmly. "You said that you trained, Beckett?"

Roy snapped out of his haze, locking eyes with Castle again, and then sat back in his seat looking embarrassed for his sudden lapse.

"The agency wanted a female presence on the field to expand their options and she was the first one recruited. I was picked to train her as I brought tons of experience to the table. She had remarkable potential that I instantly knew I could hone. And my opinion came true when she almost beat your score in the academy."

"Kate and I were assigned some missions together when we were both relatively new."

"I have read your file," replied Montgomery.

Castle was somewhat shocked by this admittance but going by the look on Montgomery's face, Castle shouldn't have been.

"I hope you realize that we collect all the important data on our field agents. Just like sports, we keep score as well."

"By how many people we kill."

"Taking care of problems that were deemed dangerous," corrected Montgomery.

"Apologies for my interpretation," responded Castle dryly.

"Your record speaks for itself, Castle," said Castle. "Kate was the loudest advocate of calling you the very best the agency has ever seen. She tried to match you in every area but you were always ahead. And you were the only one in the agency to even come close to her."

And she was now ahead of me by miles, thought Castle. He didn't know the exact word to describe what he was feeling but being admired for killing people put a bad taste in Castle's mouth. Maybe there was something more she wanted from him and that night when he saved her life could have meant something more to her than he realized. He had been the one who had initiated the hug because at that moment she looked lost and the only thing that could have brought any sense of comfort was human contact.

And he had to admit her tears on his shoulders had been a wakeup call for him too. They were playing with human lives here.

However, it still didn't change one fact.

"She almost burned me alive," said Castle. "She should re-think her opinion of me being better than her."

"I think you are missing a key word here, Castle. She 'almost' took your life. That means you bested her attempt at your life."

"Mostly luck. And some instinct as well. But none of this helps us get to her."

"You might be wrong about that. It does give us something."

Montgomery cracked his knuckles and then sat forward crossing his arms on the table. "I have evaluated both of you in every single way. And I can say confidently that both of you are almost equals in every way. It's quite eerie but the two of you think alike and adapt to any situation they throw at you with calm. Both of you also believe that either one of you can think one step ahead. Fall behind and you change tactics faster than some military generals."

"People have already told me all of this more than enough times. It's getting tiresome and I still don't know how any of it is helpful."

"It doesn't but the reason I am telling you all this again is if the time comes you will be ready and beat her."

"We may not even meet each other. We actually need to find her first."

"Which leads me to my next hypothesis on why she's doing all this. We get to her next target beforehand and that in my book is the only way we catch up to her. That's our best chance, if not the only."

"In your mind, why did she do all of this?" asked Castle.

"I didn't believe it at first when they told me that Kate had killed her own handler."

"Do you still have any doubts?"

Montgomery then took a deep breath and straightened his hands on the table. "What I believe is not important, Mr. Castle. My only assignment is to help you find Kate."

"And kill her?" asked Castle immediately. He looked straight at Montgomery without blinking. He wanted to know where his opinion lay on whether to kill Beckett or not. Bracken wanted her dead, or at least Castle thought he did, and Gates wanted her alive.

"This mission has reached a point that you must know by now what the end result should be."

"Nothing about this mission is normal or makes sense. The final objective of the mission hasn't even been made clear by any of the higher ups. Ending her existence would not fix that. At least in my books."

Montgomery sat back in his chair and then looked up at the ceiling. After a few moments he said, "That is true. But that doesn't concern us or why we are here."

Castle nodded in agreement. "I agree as well. But that brings us back to why is she doing all this?"

"I think we should delve back into her history, Castle. Sometimes the answers we seek in the present are in the past. You have the skills to take one of those facts and use them to help guide you in the future."

Castle remained silent for a few moments. "Then let's travel back in time and examine Kate's past."

He took a deep breath and began, "This is a long one. Kate was one of the most unique recruits we have ever had in the agencies history. You and many others came through the traditional route but she came in on a route that I didn't even think was possible."

"So Kate was not in the military before she was recruited? I have never heard of a field agent that didn't have previous combat experience."

"That's correct. She doesn't have a past with the military or the intelligence field either."

"We didn't spoke about our pasts when we had worked together."

"Don't take it personally, it took about two years of training with me for her to even trust me fully. Katherine was born in New York. The parents held respectable positions in their chosen careers and the first few years were pitch perfect for them family wise. They were happy. That all changed after Kate's mother, Johanna Beckett, who was an undercover officer was given a new assignment."

"What was that assignment about?"

"Take down a white supremacist group in New York. More specifically she had to get close with an individual by the name, Jerry Tyson. I think you know of him."

"Of course. It was one of the most famous cases in NYPD history but I haven't heard or read the name 'Beckett' from the news stories on that case."

"It was undercover, Castle. The police did whatever was necessary to protect their undercover officer's identities. But, Jerry Tyson is our focus now. He's the one that changed Kate's past to what it is today."

He paused for a moment and then continued, "Johanna Beckett was given the assignment to get close to him at any cost. She did her job and got close enough to Tyson that she had enough evidence on him to prove him guilty for drugs and money laundering. Thanks to her Tyson was arrested in a shootout with the police and is now in jail somewhere in Colorado."

"What about Kate's mother?"

"A tragedy to say the least. After all the hard work she had put in, Tyson got the last punch. He killed her right in front of Kate."

"Jesus Christ. How old was Kate?"

"Seven."

Both of them paused and just looked into the distance averting each other's gaze. Human beings were sometimes the real monsters that lurked in the dark.

"You're sure it was Tyson that did it and not his goons?"

"Yes, the evidence was in the small camera Johanna had installed in various rooms in her house and Kate herself. All of these facts are verified by the NYPD and the FBI as well."

"What happened to little Kate after that?"

"The next obvious custody would have been the father but the poor man had suffered war and his wives death. He couldn't take it and lost himself in alcohol. Child services got involved and Kate was placed in foster care and from there she jumped from house to house till she ended up on the streets."

"Why the streets?"

"She had been given to a family that looked good on paper but in reality were just lunatics in disguise. They didn't treat her well and according to a report made her do things that she didn't want to do. It got to a point where she turned to the streets as a safe haven."

"All of that sounds terrible but I have to stay that the agency doesn't recruit people with that type of a past. How did she get in contact with the agency?"

"Patience, Castle. I am getting to that," said Montgomery with a frown.

"My apologies, sir. Please proceed."

Castle straightened in his chair and gave Montgomery his full attention.

"When Kate was fifteen, she did something that made her eligible for Witness Protection."

"How?" said Castle with a confused look.

"New York in the past was a safe haven for neo-Nazis around the country. Kate embedded herself into one of the Nazi groups that had serious plans to bomb a particular place."

"How is that even possible for a fifteen year old?"

"The foster parents I was taking that had been given Kate as a daughter also had a son who sympathized with the Nazi movement. He was the main organizer of the group meetings and gave them a safe place to meet and recruit new members in the Brooklyn area. Kate was a witness to all this and went to the FBI to become an inside informant for them."

"The FBI approved this?"

"It sounds unbelievable I know. But the agency has gathered all the reports regarding that case and I have read the notes the investigators took when Kate first came in to testify."

"Terrified I assume?"

"The opposite actually. The lead investigator at that time wrote in detail how Kate had been the most adult fifteen year old he had ever seen. When the investigator had interviewed her it was as though he was talking to an army vet. She was the most the well-spoken and resolute informant he had ever worked with. The FBI did test her resolve but she didn't budge an inch. She wanted to take down the Nazis."

"Because of Tyson and her mother?"

"That was my guess too but Kate is one of the hardest person to read. Whatever she does on her own there is a reason for it and most likely personal."

"So a fifteen year old took down a Nazi group?"

"She actually killed one of them. And that was after she had disarmed the person."

"Fifteen years old right?"

"She was seventeen by the time the operation had ended. It took her entire junior year in high school to completely infiltrate the group and then get information on others. She did things that many wouldn't for a group that hated others for their skin color. Cooked, cleaned, print their terrible pamphlets, and by the end she was completely a 'soldier'."

"A girl that young…"

"I know what you mean. She had become one of the smartest in the group by a mile and ended up helping them plan an attack. But, feeding the FBI at the same time."

"There are fully trained agents that wouldn't have been able to do what she did. And none of them are that young," said Castle.

Montgomery continued, "The Nazi attack went forward as planned but the FBI was waiting for them and with the full force of Uncle Sam. The Nazis didn't go without a fight though."

"What happened? Someone get in the crossfire?"

"They exchanged heavy fire and had pinned a couple of FBI agents. She saved their lives."

"Then Kate was put in Witness Protection?"

"I think we are kidding ourselves if we truly believe a racist society is behind us. The Nazis have political reach to this day and Kate had helped cut part of the monster. But the monster still lives."

"I am guessing that is a yes. How did Kate get recruited by the agency? Through Witness Protection?"

"The agency had been keeping tabs on the Nazi operation. We quickly saw one set of skills that the FBI didn't see. We could protect her as well. She would be given a new job and under our watch become one of the best. She would get a new identity, travelled whenever called upon, and personal defense skills that even the hardest killers would have a hard time with. We gave her the offer and without hesitance accepted it. She received the same education and training just like you did."

"That is one way of getting hired by the agency. Not ideal but one way."

"She didn't take a much different route then yours, Mr. Castle."

"You don't have to turn this about me. We are discussing Kate right now and I have two routes I can take with regards to her."

This time it was Montgomery that looked confused. "Explain."

"She probably received several tests and some of them psychological ones that you probably gave her to test her. Am I right?"

"Indeed. I did test her and she aced them all."

"She could have done two things on that test. Legitimately passed it or lied about everything she wrote."

"She made Nazis believe that she was qualified enough to make a terrorist attack. She could have lied on the tests too."

"Her whole history and what she has done for the agency makes the perfect impression that she's patriotic. However, she has taken the lives of two federal employees therefore putting doubt where her loyalty lies. From where I stand, or sit, she was manipulated enough to go through all of this and she had been lying about it the whole time ever since she joined the agency or we still don't know what her motives are."

"Your reasoning is logical."

"I appreciate that you have told me about her past but what I need are the last two years. Every mission she has been on for the past two or three years."

"Why the last two or three years?"

"If it were me in her place two years would be the minimum to plan the whole mission out. Assuming she was turned by someone else and the reason could be money."

"I know Kate. The last thing she cared about was money."

Castle leaned forward on the table and asked, "What if it were me? Would you believe that I would take the money?"

"I don't know you like I do her."

"With all due respect, Mr. Montgomery. You don't know anyone that you have trained in the past. That's why the agency recruited us because we are good at deception. Your childhood has to be a trip through hell itself to become us. We didn't have the picturesque childhood with our mothers making us cookies and the dog playing in the backyard."

"I understand."

"If you do, then I will operate on the basis that Kate is doing this for a personal reason rather than for someone else. I need her last two years. Every single step she took or did. Down to her bank statements."

"Do you not already have the files?"

"I have the censored ones and I need the uncensored ones."

Montgomery looked shocked by what Castle had said. "What in the world?"

"The files that the agency gave me were censored. To be more precise, they had deleted data. Things missing in the middle that didn't add up. I need the whole picture otherwise I am looking at a picture that has paint thrown on it," he paused and decided to tell it all. "The crime scenes were tampered too. There were things that were removed and not by the police. The agency is responsible for the tampered crime scenes and I need to know what was taken and why."

Montgomery looked extremely troubled by these revelations that Castle had dropped on him and stared off in the distance.

Montgomery got off his seat and then walked towards a window that overlooked a forest. "I will do whatever it takes to get you the original documentation on Kate."

Castle remained silent as he didn't trust the new number two yet.

He rose from his chair said, "So, tell me, what do you want me to do with Kate Beckett? Dead or alive?"

Montgomery turned around and locked eyes with him. "Do what you must, Mr. Castle. Find the truth."

"I should get started then."

* * *

Castle's mind was going a hundred miles per hour as he accelerated through the streets into D.C. but not towards his apartment. He had to make small detour and head towards a school.

He reached the school and parked at the curb looking around the area for any suspicious individuals. The school Alexis Rodgers attended was considered one, if not the best, schools in D.C. it was not a school, however, where all the students had a dress code and the place where only the wealthy students went. This was a school based on merit. It didn't care what background an individual had, if that person was smart then you could expect to be admitted in their school. Wealth wasn't necessary as tuition was taken care of by the school. The school wanted individuals that were not only smart but had a sense of what society needed in the future.

Castle knew that Alexis wasn't fond of rich schools as she had refused many that were recommended by her step-father. She had decided on this school and Castle knew that she would thrive in the environment that challenged every aspect of her knowledge. She was an individual that the school valued and saw immense potential in.

This was the first time he would encounter her ever since their last dinner in which she had given Castle a picture of herself. He thought about how he would talk and answer her questions that were sure to be filled with some anger.

He thought about it.

He gave up.

There was no way to approach this situation and expect what to happen.

The rain was still falling but only in chunks as it didn't want to let up on the city. Castle turned on his vipers which shoved the water off his windshield. He looked at his watch and it was almost time. Parents had already started to line up next to the curb. There was no bus service provided by the school however students were allowed to use the public bus system.

The final bell rang and the main doors opened letting a flood of students swarm out in droves. Castle got out of his car and saw Alexis make her way down the entrance stairs. He fixed his shirt as much as he could and then jogged across the street.

A group of giggling girls were walking ahead of Alexis as she had earbuds in and was typing furiously on her phone. She had come a long way, he thought. The first time he had come across her family they couldn't afford to give her a phone.

He reached the curb and let the group of girls pass before he stepped forward.

Alexis stopped, looked up from her phone, and a smile erupted on her face before it turned into anger.

"What do you want, Rick," she asked in a demanding tone.

"Made you a promise and now I am here fulfilling it."

"Oh, now you remember? It's a little too late don't you think?"

"Is it?"

The clouds grumbled above them indicating the heavens were about to open up.

"Let me give you a ride home," said Castle as he saw her try and stand tall against the cold wind.

"No thank you. The bus is just fine."

Just then a public bus pulled up next to the curb. He then remembered what her parents had told him about how Alexis hated buses for some reason. "I thought you didn't have a particular liking for buses."

Alexis gave him a frown and he took that as an opportunity to press on. "Let me give you a ride. We can talk. I'll even meet Ryan and make sure he's treating you alright."

"Ryan is fantastic. I've already told you that."

"He sounds fantastic too but I want to see for myself."

"The only reason you're here is because you feel bad about how you've treated me."

"Why are you here then?"

"The rain is not helping right now."

"It won't hurt you."

"Your headphones will probably electrocute you," said Castle.

"Oh, how thoughtful," she responded sarcastically.

But Castle had done enough for her to follow him to the car. Both of them got in and Castle ignited the engine and merged into traffic.

Alexis fastened her seat belt and asked, "So tell me, Rick. Why are you really here?"

"A promise that I had made."

"That promise means nothing to me now."

"You're making it harder than it is, Alexis. Please understand…"

"I don't care, Rick. You need to understand that you left me. And to make things worse you have met Super Agent Shaw plenty of times."

"I have only met her for professional reasons and she was the one that wanted to meet so she could ask me more questions."

"Murders?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Rick, I am not stupid. I know the world you operate in. If it's you and Shaw then it has to be someone dying."

"Guess I should have known you would have figured that out."

"You still met with Shaw."

"It's not what you're thinking."

"It's exactly what I think it is."

"Are you in a competition with Shaw?" he asked with a sigh.

"You said that day after my parents died that you kept your word. People have always lied to me and I didn't know why I expected anything different from you. But you changed my parents and made them appreciate me again. That's why I trusted your word," she paused and looked out the window. "If you didn't want to see again then a quick text would have been fine."

"You really think it's that simple?"

"It is."

"I am here, Alexis…"

The thunder boomed above their heads.

"Because I was wrong."

"About what?" she asked still not looking at him.

"All I could think about after that bust was how I could protect you. In the heat of the moment I really thought that I could protect you myself by being there for you but I should have known better."

"What does that mean?"

"The work I do makes enemies that don't forget you. Those people would have come after you. I heard that you had gotten a new start with a good family and I didn't want to take that away. It was like you had gotten a new shot at happiness."

"You can't be serious, Rick?" she asked.

"You had a clean shot at a normal life and with me your life could have ended alongside your parents. I didn't want to face that reality again."

"You should told me all of this beforehand."

"I was a coward," said Castle. Alexis was now looking at him as he concentrated on the wet road.

"You're not a coward, Rick," she said in a soft voice.

"I just realized that you call me Rick when you're mad and Castle when you're happy or mad."

"Then don't let me call you Richard then."

The traffic signal turned red and Castle looked at her. "I wanted to let you know. Maybe I wanted to do exactly what I had promised. Maybe I wanted to be a part of your life. Maybe…"

"Maybe you wanted to feel normal."

The traffic signal green and Castle drove forward. Both of them didn't speak for a few moments.

"I guess I did."

The heavens opened above them and the rain started to fall harder.

"Wow, Rick. That might be the most honest thing that you have said to me maybe ever."

"You're fifteen right? Act your age and not so mature."

"Age is just a number. Experience is what defines us. Expect I didn't want it to."

Castle nodded. "I understand." And he looked at her and said, "We good?"

"Maybe. Almost there. Not yet…Richard."

Castle then surprised himself and actually laughed in what seemed like ages.

He looked into his rearview mirror and saw a car that looked out of place. His expression turned serious almost instantly and Alexis had noticed.

"What is it?" asked Alexis looking at the side mirror next to her.

He turned to look at Alexis who immediately recognized that expression.

She said, "That look means something bad is going to happen. Is there someone behind us that shouldn't be?"

It can't be, thought Castle. It just wasn't possible. Not here and especially not right now.

But why not? This was a perfect moment. He was trapped. And everything that has happened till now has been unpredictable.

Except there was one problem. Alexis was with him. If he let her out the car then that would put her into even more trouble. But if she remained in the car then the chances of her getting hurt increased as well. This was exactly the scenario that he had feared could happen.

He was feeling anxious and when he glanced at Alexis it was evident that she was as well.

"Castle what's going on? Whenever you get anxious I get scared okay."

"The reason I wanted to stay away from you is now a reality."

Just as he had said that Alexis turned to look back but Castle immediately stopped her. "Don't! They will know that we have spotted them."

"What do we do then?"

"We do nothing."

"What?! Why?"

"We just drive normally. That's it."

"That's it? That's your plan?"

"Yes. We drive normally until something happens that doesn't make us drive normally."

"That sounds like a terrible plan. Then what?"

"We roll the dice."

Castle eyed his rear view mirror again and tightened his grip on the steering wheel even more. The car he had spotted was still there. Just like him they were driving normally as well. He wanted to be wrong but his instincts were screaming at him that he wasn't.

The bigger question was that who was following them? Was it his agency or someone else?

Not Kate. That would be insane even on her part. Every rule they had learned would have been thrown out.

But she wasn't exactly conventional. Maybe she was doing this to become even more unpredictable.

 _Oh Kate, I can play that game too_ , he thought.

* * *

Castle slowed down to keep in pace with the traffic around him and didn't make any sudden turns either in an attempt to seem like a normal driver. But the time had come to confirm whether the person behind them was really a threat or just a figment of his imagination. His plan was simple and it will most likely reveal whether there was someone following them.

They reached an intersection and he turned on his right turn signal.

"Um, Rick. My house is the other way," said a confused Alexis.

"Play along. We are doing a little experiment."

He looked into his rearview mirror again and the car was still there but its front headlights were blocked by the car that was in front of it. He slowly let the car drive itself by taking his foot off the brake so the car behind him could go ahead and reveal the perpetrator.

Nothing. The car hadn't done anything and the car blocking Castle's view was still there. He glanced to his left and saw an opportunity.

There was a building across the street and on one of the windows he saw the third car with their right turn signal turned on.

Got you, he thought. His turn was coming up to go right as the intersection came into view.

He started to turn right but went straight ahead instead.

The car that had been blocking his view had turned right and the unmarked car was now exposed.

The car's right turn signal was no longer turned on and was now right behind Castle. However, it suddenly slowed down to let another car in between them again.

 _Yeah, Virginian drivers aren't that nice._

The whole plan had worked. There was someone following them right now without a doubt.

"So, we are being followed right?" asked Alexis.

He glanced at her. "Fasten your seatbelt."

She checked the belt buckle and then gave it a tug. "You are armed and ready right?"

Castle nodded and tapped his right leg. "Loaded."

"What's the plan here?"

Castle was about to answer but was interrupted when the car that had been following them sped up. It came up next to them and before Castle could hit the gas the window of the unmarked car rolled down and revealed a person that calmed Castle down.

"Shaw?" he said exasperated.

Jordan Shaw was driving next to them.

Shaw motioned Castle to pull over and he pulled over to a curb moments later. He got out of the car almost instantly before Shaw even had the chance to put her car in park.

"What the hell Shaw?" asked Castle in an angry tone.

"Why are you mad?" replied Shaw calmly.

"I spotted someone that was following us and you're damn lucky my weapon hadn't come out."

Shaw got out of her car and then saw Alexis stand outside Castle's car wondering what was happening.

"Hey, Alexis," said Shaw.

Alexis replied by nodding in her direction and then looked at Castle.

"Explain yourself, Shaw. Why are you tailing me?" he snapped.

"Why are you so paranoid? Are you always this way?"

"Yes I am always this way. Especially the past few days."

"Well, to answer your question. I wasn't following you."

"That clears up everything. You just happened to be at the school the same time I was," said Castle cynically.

"No. I had no idea and I saw you pick up Alexis."

"Why are you even here?"

Shaw looked towards Alexis with a worried look and said, "Someone might be after her."

Castle was the one concerned now and on instinct his hand reached for his gun. "What do you know, Shaw?"

"There are dangerous people on the prowl with deep pockets. They might know Alexis and even me. But I have the FBI covering me. Who does she have?" asked Shaw her eyes switching between Alexis and Castle.

"She has me," he replied softy.

"Only today did you show up. I was shocked when I saw you at her school."

"I was shocked by my own actions as well," said Castle feeling guilty as he said that.

Shaw saw Castle's face and with a soft tone said, "That's actually a good thing, Castle." she then paused. "But why were you worried about being tailed? Who did you think I was?"

Castle had been looking away from Shaw and then looked at her. "One of the requirements of my job. Always be aware of your surroundings."

"You sure about that?"

He cocked his head on one side with a slight frown. "Why is it every time we have a conversation it seems like you are interrogating me?"

"It's sad but it's the only way to get any useful information out of you," said Shaw in annoyance. "And even then I feel like I know you less than I did before. If you're feeling annoyed right now, so am I," she paused and the next words she said in a quieter tone. "I am well aware that your agency is scrambling on what happened to Coonan."

Castle didn't respond.

"And then we have Josh Davidson. The agency goes full damage control from the incoming shitstorm." She took a step towards Castle. "The DAA is just a cover in my opinion. Josh is a part of you agency. Maybe as an analyst or handler I am guessing."

"Rick," said Alexis. "I would like to head home now."

"Give me a second, Alexis," said Castle as he closed in even more on Shaw. "Word of advice. Keep away from this and the less you know the better it is for you."

"It doesn't work that way, Castle. I have a job and it requires me to keep prodding till I find something. I don't hold back and I think you know that."

She gave Alexis a smile before continuing. "If your agency is in trouble then all of its employees are as well. The people who knocked off Coonan wouldn't mind doing the same to a fifteen year old."

She gave both of them a smile and then got back into her car. Castle watched her drive off and disappear around the corner.

Alexis walked over to Castle. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Life."

"So I was right. There is a case that you guys are working on."

"Not on the same team this time."

"That's interesting. Can I help?"

Castle looked at her with a frown.

"I know. I know. Thought I would ask. So where are we heading next?"

"Taking you home just like you asked."

"Oh, okay," said Alexis in a defeated tone.

Castle looked at her and he knew he had to do something worthwhile.

"Ice-cream?

"Rick, it's raining and cold too," replied Alexis but looking hopeful now.

"Coffee?"

"Definitely," replied Alexis with a small smile.

Both of them got into the car and just as they pulled into traffic a car pulled around the corner and started following them.

This time it was Kate Beckett following them.

* * *

Kate had let several cars get in between her and Castle's car so there would be no doubt in his mind. She had picked a car that wouldn't pick any suspicion as well as picking a car with a dull color and stock body with no modifications. When she had arrived at Alexis's school she had gotten the surprise gift of Shaw in an unmarked vehicle but that had helped Kate follow Castle unmarked as his attention was fully focused on Shaw.

As she drove on her mind went back to the target list.

 _Josh_. Dead.

 _Coonan_. Dead.

 _Vulcan Simmons_. Alive. And it was entirely her fault.

Apart from these people she had one more person on the list. Simmons probably would have had a conversation with that person now. The deaths of Coonan and Josh would have probably had been pitched as an attack on American intelligence. The attack on Simmons, however, would have revealed her cards to some people.

She had watched Castle use the textbook 'spot the tail' technique and bring out Shaw from hiding. Kate would have done the same thing. She wondered she could make out Castle that easily if the situation was the other way around. It was too simple for him. He would have figured it out a lot sooner and without the inclusion of Alexis he would have probably taken her out.

 _I would be dead._

Twenty minutes passed and Castle stopped at a small coffee shop. She wondered what was happening and it was soon answered as both Castle and Alexis entered the little shop. She parked her car across from the street and dipped a little in her seat to avoid any detection. She observed them and for a while they seemed happy in each other's presence. She knew about the drug case both of them had been a part of. It resulted in a tragedy but in some ways they had found a person in each other that could help them understand the world better.

For a few moments Kate felt happy for Alexis. Maybe she had a chance at having a normal life in the future.

She quickly shook it off.

She couldn't think that way right now.

After a while all of them left and later pulled next to a curb which led to the front entrance of Alexis's home. Kate had stopped a block earlier but she could still make out the car and its two inhabitants. The young lady got out of the car and then stood on the curb looking directly at Castle which a hopeful face. She couldn't make out what was being said between them but it didn't look pleasant as Alexis's expression had turned into disappointment. She turned around and walked up the stairs to the most impressive four-story house in the affluent neighborhood.

She turned her attention back to Castle who was still in the car. He was still looking at Alexis go up the stairs till she reached the door. Alexis turned around and gave him a small wave but still had a disappointed look on her face. She entered the house and Castle pulled away from the curb.

Kate slowly drove forward as well but stopped for a few seconds to take a picture of Alexis's house and letting Castle have a head start.

This was Richard Castle's ultimate heel. The one thing that could make him do things that he wouldn't have if it weren't for Alexis. He had broken the first rule in the agency handbook. Don't have anyone that you care about.

In their line of work you don't make friends. The agency had made them into machines that couldn't comprehend feelings and kill for them without feeling any guilt. Then move on to the next one.

But Kate understood why Castle had done it. It was for a solid reason as well.

She had done it as well. Her doctor friend came to mind.

She followed Castle all the way back to D.C. and saw him pull into a garage of an apartment complex.

She didn't follow. That would have been too obvious and someone was probably watching. She looked at the apartment complex which went up to ten stories and was probably home to all age groups. Young people who were starting off in their careers, middle aged people still confused about how life had turned out, and older people who couldn't afford the luxury of owning their own house.

It didn't stand out.

That's why it was a perfect place for people like Castle and her.

Hide in plain sight.

She observed Castle's home base for a few moments and pulled away from the curb in the opposite direction. There wasn't much she could do now and staying here longer could be dangerous. The agency probably had eyes on his place too. It was rush hour so the hordes of cars and people were out in full force and chances of her being spotted were low.

She had a new problem to deal with in the meantime.

She had worked on her list of targets strenuously but in the back of her head she felt there was someone missing.

Josh was small fish.

Coonan was a shark.

And Vulcan Simmons was in the middle as he was a judge but there was more to him than met the eye.

There was another person on the list. Fourth one on the list.

Her instincts were telling her that there was a fifth one as well. And it could be the most important on.

But what she needed now was intel and her next goal would be find the source. But she needed help.

She usually didn't like receiving help but in this case it was necessary. And she knew where to find it.

It was in the most unusual of places.

Not in the power halls of federal covert agencies.

She would find help in a shopping mall.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

Kate headed west after scoping out Castle's apartment and thought about what was to come. Her next assignment would be challenging and dangerous. She would have to be extremely delicate and somehow remain anonymous in a place where there were too many prying eyes to keep track of. But she did this for a living so it wasn't exactly new territory for her.

She drove faster while holding the steering wheels in a tight grip. She wasn't anxious as years of training and experience had taught her to remain calm in stressful situations. It had come to a point for her that during moments of high danger she would remain calm, her body would become light as a feather, and even her mind would become a state of Zen. Dangerous situations, unlike a normal reaction, allowed her to analyze scenarios at her leisure.

Before the other side could even think she would disappear in thin air.

And someone else would welcome the grim reaper.

She drove for an hour as the rush traffic had started to fester on the highway's and in the rain most people somehow magically forget how to drive.

Kate was a fan of shopping malls. Sure she liked to shop for clothes but mostly because it was a place where there many exits and entry points.

She also hated shopping malls. Mainly because it was place where a lot of people went and made it hard for her to spot any suspicious looking person.

She parked her car in an underground garage, went up to the ground floor by stairs, and then strolled to the mall entrance. There were a group of girls that exited the mall with bags full of clothes from a variety of stores. None of them were looking at where they were going as they were busy texting on their phones. Totally oblivious that an assassin had just walked right past them.

She walked into the mall and slowed down to look at some of the clothes that were on display. She needed to act normal as possible even though she had a baseball cap on with glasses on. She looked in each directions for any threats while thinking at the same time about how she could deal with the threat. Multitasking at its finest. One could simply not walk into a public location such as this without taking in what was going on around them. It was almost as important as breathing in her line of work.

She walked further into the mall towards her desired location. She reached the location but did not go in. instead she stopped at the entrance, dropped her keys, and when she bent over to pick them up shook the keys so they made a loud enough sound for only some to hear. She gave a person a slight nod and then walked straight ahead further into the mall. She stopped at a huge LED screen which had the mall map on it and from her peripheral vision noticed a person come out of the store where she had dropped her keys.

Kate was on the move again but in the opposite directions and looked for signs of a family restroom. She found one at the end of a hallway and stepped inside closing the door behind her. She went into one of the stalls, pulled out her gun, and then waited for someone to enter. Moments later the door opened again and looking at the mirrors in front of the hand wash area, she knew who it was.

"Make sure the door is locked," she said.

The person who had entered did what he was told.

She exited the stall with her gun in hand.

The man who had walked in measured her up and gave her a slight nod. He was almost six feet tall, Hispanic, and almost hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle. He had a buzz cut which looked as though it had been trimmed recently. If they were to fight hand to hand now then Kate would have her work cut out for. But she wasn't here for that. She needed information and fast.

The man who was standing in front of her went by the name Javier Esposito. He was the owner one of the first martial arts dojo's that had opened inside a mall. Many thought it was an idea that would fail but it had become a successful venture for the owner. He had teens, adult's, and child students who wanted to learn the art of taekwondo or Ju Jitsu while their significant others searched for an outfit to buy. He loved his job and Kate couldn't blame him. Martial arts was the only thing for many to find inner peace and take out whatever anger they might have inside. It also gave some the necessary training to defend themselves. He was wearing a UFC shirt and reebok shorts underneath to complete his look of a trainer who knew his stuff.

What many didn't know was that he was a spy in his pre-martial arts life. He was the best in the agency when it came to convincing someone to do something that they didn't want to. He could make a starving man buy sand instead of water from a freshwater spring. He had retired early and decided to fend for himself in life. The agencies retirement policy wasn't clear but he was one of the few that had been granted a retirement to the surprise of many. Kate had wondered about this as well and why the agency completely stepped out and not went after him because Javi did know some top level secrets. Maybe he had done something that had scared the agency enough to step back and rethink their 'kill off the agency veterans' policy.

In his post agency life the only person he cared about was himself.

And Kate Beckett.

Only for the reason that she had not only once but three times saved his life.

Esposito was her lifeline and one of the few ones that remained.

He eyed the gun calmly, "That serious huh, Kate?"

She nodded. "When is it not?"

"I would have ignored you if it weren't for your 'drop the keys for attention' show. Nice work on your face. Barely recognized you from far away."

"When someone is chasing you, do your best to conceal yourself and hide in plain sight."

"Heard about what happened. Coonan and some guy named Josh are dead."

"Correct."

"Did you do it?" he asked with a questioning look but he knew there wouldn't be an answer. "So what brings you here, Kate?"

Kate put her gun away and leaned back against a wall. "I am in need of some intel."

"You took a huge risk coming all the way here."

"Biggest risk I took was almost two years ago. You have gone anonymous for a while now, Javi. I know you have people that provide the cover and they are not here right now. In fact, they haven't been seen in a while now."

Esposito folded his arms and leaned back against a sink. "You're right and I feel almost naked without them there. The agency probably figured I was gone for good and I was serious about my dojo business. So why cover me you know. What intel do you need?"

"Did you know Coonan?"

"Almost every handler did and some field agents did. He was at the agency for a long time."

"You know of Josh Davidson? Was his cover at DAA legit?"

"No and I don't know about his existence at DAA either."

"Josh and Coonan knew each other. But not in the capacity of agency business," said Kate.

"And how did you know that?" asked Esposito.

"That's for another day. All you need to know is that both of them had a connection."

"What do I have to do with any of this?"

"You are not involved. I just need you to do something for me," said Kate.

"What might that be?"

"The reason that I have told you. Intel. It's about something that I don't think you know about but you need to find it for me. I need it ASAP as well."

"Not many people left in the agency that I know. Or trust for that matter."

"The information is not on the inside. At least not anymore I think."

* * *

Castle sat back and rubbed his eyes. He worked out the clinks in his shoulders as he waited for the inevitable files from Montgomery. But the files hadn't arrived so he decided to review the censored files that he had received before to check for anything he might have missed.

There was nothing.

The last missions Kate had been assigned took place outside the US. Castle could travel to each of them and investigate them but he knew that it would just be a waste of time.

He would have to investigate the last two years of Kate's life thoroughly to find any shred of evidence on what she was doing. But the problem was, that would take a lot of time as well.

How many people could she kill while he sat on a desk looking through her past?

If she kept going at the same pace then it wasn't too hard to imagine that Castle would be removed from the investigation. And if he was being honest with himself then that was an outcome he would welcome.

Montgomery had left him a number to call if he had any concerns and he had done so but it had gone straight to voicemail. He thought about the petals he had recovered from the crime scene and what they meant. He had serious doubts that Kate had a symbolic approach to all of this. Were the roses left to symbolize death and the afterlife? That also didn't make sense to him, maybe he was looking at the problem the wrong way.

But what was the right way? He thought as he refilled his mug with more tea. He checked his watch which told him it was almost two in the morning.

He didn't bother drinking the tea as it was time for him to sleep. There was no point burning midnight oil if the result was nothing of value.

He slept for six hours and woke up feeling somewhat refreshed. The burns he had received from the cottage incident had calmed down and the pills helped out too easing the tension in his left leg. He made himself some tea and then reviewed some of the files he had been given. He wanted to be sure that he hadn't missed anything even though most of the file was censored.

He examined each page closely and yet again found nothing. He took his phone and placed some calls that ended being useless as well. He decided a quick thirty minute workout was in order and changed into his gym clothes. He went down the elevator to the apartment gym and did a non-stressful workout regime that didn't hurt his recovering body. He snatched a meal from a deli shop nearby and then ate it while walking up to his home. He was in the floor hallway when he received a call from the agency. They had something for him that might be useful but his presence was required for him to receive the new information. He quickly took a cold shower, changed, and was out of the parking garage in less than twenty minutes.

The agency had sent him a new location and it was a CIA facility which Kate had used before she had killed Josh. It was in a suburban area about an hour away from D.C. and inside the facility was a locker where Kate had left some of her belongings. Castle knew that whatever he found wouldn't be that useful. Kate wouldn't make a mistake of leaving something important behind and the agency had already tampered with the locker.

He went through the main entrance of the facility where he was processed and had a body scan done as well. He was given permission but was escorted by a guard to the locker. It was already open when he got there and inside lay some of the contents Kate had left behind. There were a few items but Castle had no idea what was taken before his arrival. Right now the only person he trusted was himself.

The items inside the locker turned out to be a photo, a World War II novel, and a gun that seemed to be loaded but had an extended mag attached to it. He examined the picture and it was Kate standing next to a man he didn't recognize.

He collected all the items and then drove back to his apartment home.

This is not what Castle did. His job was usually finding a perfect spot for a snipers nest and then killing a person the very next moment. The assignment he was given now of looking over a dozen files for clues, traveling in every direction, and questioning numerous people wasn't his thing. He wasn't trained to become a detective and even though he liked mysteries this one was becoming a pain to stay the least. Nearly all his adult life was spent training to become a lethal weapon of mass destruction and the agency was now expecting him to solve a case where there were no leads whatsoever. But he still loved it. And he would solve it.

He took out the items and laid out the photo, the book, and the gun he had taken from the locker and examined every single detail of the object from an exterior point of view.

He picked up the gun, disassembled it, and concluded that it was just an ordinary gun. With the amount of ease the gun had disassembled meant that the agency had already done it first and had taken the initiative of looking for clues as well. The mag didn't contain clues either as it was fully loaded with thirty three rounds ready to fire. This was a standard issued gun that even a local cop would have seen a million times before except the extended mag attached at the end of the gun's butt.

Why thirty three rounds? For one job, Kate? Really?

He noticed a custom safety that was added on the side and it was made out of what he presumed was titanium. It was used to reduce the recoil and make the trigger a bit lighter on the touch while increasing the accuracy as well. This was overkill to say the least.

This meant, however, that Kate was a sucker for the smallest details.

The grip of the gun itself was custom too as it had been modified to let the user grip the gun better. Overall it was smart engineering and it had made the gun even more lethal than before. He noticed a small name stitched on the grip of the gun. It had the initials VGC.

He immediately typed the initials on Google and in an instant the words Virginia Gun Company came up as a result. He didn't recall ever hearing of this company but he assumed there were many companies with the same line of business and name. This meant Kate was not happy with the standard issue gun and wanted some work done on it.

Yet again, the small details mattered to Kate.

He put down the gun and studied the picture next. The man she was standing next to could easily be over six feet and looked around the age of late-forties. He looked fit for his age but it seemed like he was letting it go. He noticed an edge of yellow to the man's right and he couldn't make out what that color was. Certainly looked as if it were another person or a sign or even a car but Castle couldn't tell because of the way the picture was taken. Unless he made a negative of the picture he wouldn't be able to tell what it was and enlarging the picture wouldn't work either.

He studied the woman next to the man. The woman who was now haunting him in his dreams now as well. Kate was standing in heels, dressed as though she had been hunting, and unlike the man next to her looked straight at the camera with a killer smiles. This was not the first time Castle had seen a picture of hers but each time he saw a different picture it was as though he was looking at a different person.

Castle and Kate were photogenic but both seemed like a chameleon in most of them.

It had come to a point where every time he received a new information on her he somehow understood Kate more. It was as though he was peeling layers of an onion.

She stood tall, self-assured, and most of all calm without looking overly confident. It looked like her guard was somewhat down as well as he noticed that her limbs were held loosely but something about her upper body seemed off. She was a tad bit tight and that meant she was ready to take out her gun at any given time.

We don't change huh, Kate, he thought to himself with a faint smile.

Her feet looked to be balanced on the ball of her feet, weight adjusted appropriately, and she wasn't in a posture where she was either too forward or back either. She seemed ready to react in a moment's notice but yet seemed calm. For many people this was overkill for just a photo.

But to people like Kate and Castle it was a choice that they didn't have a say in.

Her lips seemed fuller in this picture with red lipstick adoring them. He looked at the yellow object again and turned the picture in various ways to figure out what that object was.

Even turning it upside down didn't help.

He laid down the photo and then picked up the book. It was titled The History of World War II. He flipped through the book in big chunks to see if Kate had left any notes or pen marks. There weren't any.

But he realized if there was anything of importance left in the book, the agency would have probably taken it. They had left behind a picture, a gun, and a book which told Castle that they hadn't found anything useful in them. Otherwise they would have taken the liberty of taking the objects without telling Castle of their existence.

It was more than enough evidence that the agency wanted Castle to kill Beckett. He wondered whether the agency was even interested in finding the truth behind Kate's rogue actions.

He laid the book next to the photo, got up from his seat, and walked towards his window. Kate was out there somewhere. And he knew that she was probably in the process of planning her next hit. Alexis was out there too but doing her homework he hoped. Maybe she was still thinking of their little driving incident that had taken place yesterday. Coffee with her had been a nice conclusion to that whole ordeal.

Super Agent Shaw was looking for Beckett even though he doubted that she even knew of Kate's existence. It was about to get more complicated than it already was.

Three hours passed and his phone came to life while he was still examining the items he had recovered. A message had arrived and Roy Montgomery wanted to meet again. However, at a different location from before. It was somewhere in south east Virginia and he assumed it was probably his house from the look of the address he had received.

Castle replied to the message, put on a trench coat, put all the items he had recovered in a safe that was right behind an art piece, and then headed out.

As he pulled out of the garage he hoped Montgomery had some answers for him. If he didn't, then he wasn't sure what he would do next. Because Kate was already miles ahead and if he got nothing then chances were she was going to disappear soon.

* * *

Nearly an hour had passed and it was soon getting dark as he left D.C. behind him stuck in the road hell that was rush hour traffic. He reached open roads and picked up speed but then slowed down as he went through small towns where he knew traffic police were rampant. This was on route to Montgomery's house and he wondered how this man enjoyed the ride all the way back to D.C. every day. He probably didn't. Most people who had to travel far by road were probably thinking of ways to kill each other while stuck in traffic and listening to the latest radio single for the 75th time in a row.

He slowed down as he approached the freeway exit and then drove on till he reached a long, winding gravel road which led to a two story house made entirely of bricks and four cars parked in front of it.

Knowing what had happened to Coonan, Montgomery probably didn't want to take any chances. Except it wasn't. Castle expected his car to be stopped by now but it wasn't as he approached the front drive thru of the house. He parked his car on the edge, turned it off, and got out. He didn't make any sudden movements so any one observing from a distance through a scope would warrant a shot.

The front entrance was hidden in a shadow and moments later he saw two men walk out from the darkness. They were Castle's height, muscular, and looked hard in the face. They checked his credentials, let him keep his weapon which was a surprise, and slowly escorted him to the house. They led him to a door which was at the end of a hall and then left him there.

Castle knocked and instantly there was a response in the vein of 'enter'.

He opened the door and walked in. Behind a mahogany table sat Montgomery and he had the look of worry and stress written all over him.

It was very obvious even in the dimly lit room.

The second thing he noticed was the gun that was resting on top of the table near Montgomery.

Castle paused after closing the door behind him. "Is everything alright?" he asked even though the answer was pretty obvious by looking at his face.

"Please, Mr. Castle. Have a seat."

Castle slowly walked across the room and took a seat across the table from Montgomery.

"Security is very light outside," said Castle.

Montgomery's expression gave away what he wanted to say and he was well aware of the security measures taken to protect him. "The two men who escorted you here are reliable. I would trust my own life on them."

Castle stayed silent then responded. "Those two are the only ones you trust?"

"The intelligence field, as you might know, Mr. Castle, is a world where trust isn't in abundance. Who you work with is always changing."

"Rule one in the handbook. Friend today, enemy tomorrow," translated Castle. "I live in that world as well." His right hand left the table and was now resting on his right leg. Quick access to the holster that was holding his gun. He looked at Montgomery's gun and then at him directly.

"Do you wish to talk about something, sir?" asked Castle. "If the number two in command doesn't feel safe under the protection of his current security detail then that is something I should know about."

Montgomery placed a hand on his gun, but Castle got to it first.

"Not going to do anything with it. Just wanted to put it away."

"Let's just leave it where it is," said Castle. "And please keep your hands away unless someone has a gun aimed at you."

He sat back in his seat but with a disgruntled expression, clearly thinking that Castle was out of his depth ordering him around. Few minutes passed in silence and his expression cleared.

"Guess my paranoia is starting to settle in, and you are too I assume?" he asked.

"I think we can both agree with that. Why the paranoia?" replied Castle with another question.

"Coonan and Josh are dead," replied Montgomery.

"Kate was responsible. And not part of the agency anymore."

"Is she really on the outside now?"

"What makes you think that she isn't? You seemed an advocate for her when we last met."

"Was I really that supportive?"

Montgomery rose from his seat and walked over to a window. The window was covered by blinds and he didn't attempt to open them.

Castle then thought about whether this house was under long distance surveillance.

"I think you know the answer to that," he said.

He turned around to face him again. "You were too young to live through the Cold War or even be in the agency for that matter."

"So, we are traveling back in time all the way back to the Cold War? The decade where people constantly switched sides."

"There is no exact answer for that, Castle. I wish I had an answer for that but what I could tell you is that in the past few years there have been too many troubling developments circling the entire US covert agencies."

"What does that mean exactly?"

Montgomery exclaimed immediately. "There were missions given the green light that shouldn't have been. People missing. Money being moved from one location to another and disappearing without a trace. Same with the equipment disappearing. And that's just the start. The shipping of these items were done in secret over several years. Decades even according to one report. When you look at it on face value then it doesn't seem out of the ordinary but when you look at it in close detail…" he paused seemingly tired from his sudden outburst.

"So, you're the only one that has looked at this matter in detail?" asked Castle.

"I am not sure."

"You said missing personal? Would Kate be considered one?"

"Not sure either."

"What exactly are you sure of?"

He sat back down. "I am sure you're aware by now, Mr. Castle. There is something very insidious going on internally within many organizations. Does it have anything to do with Kate? I don't know. What I am sure of is that we have reached a point of crisis."

"Does Director Bracken share your concerns?"

Montgomery didn't reply instead just placed his hands on the table. He was about to respond when suddenly Castle heard a sound that meant danger. He pulled out his gun and closed the lamp that was on the table plunging the entire room in darkness.

Castle slid across the table onto the floor pulling down Montgomery with him. "Get under your desk and stay there for now."

He felt for a gun on top of the table and handed it to Montgomery. "Still know how to shoot?"

"Of Course," he replied in a soft voice. He was scared and Castle wasn't surprised.

"That's great to hear."

Castle waited for a few moments and was then on the move.

There were two rifle shots that had been shot from somewhere far away.

Followed by the sound of the bullets embedding themselves in their respective targets.

The targets had been Montgomery's security detail hitting the dirt.

The security perimeter had fallen.

It was now only Castle and Montgomery versus whoever was out there.

He pulled out his phone and placed a call but it didn't go through. Maybe it was the coverage, he thought. He looked at the bars and it showed full coverage of five bars. But the call hadn't gone through.

Someone was jamming the signals. That meant one thing. There was more than one person out there apart from the lone sniper.

* * *

Castle took a peek out the front window and saw the guards lying face down on the ground. He traced his steps back to the house, went to the opposite direction of the room, and found a hardline phone. He dialed Gates in an instant who picked up after the first ring.

"Mr. Montgomery," said Gates, who didn't realize it was Castle and was going by the caller ID.

"It's Castle. Montgomery's place has been shot up. Two guards are down. Multiple threats maybe. I am the only defense he has left. Backup needed pronto."

"Done," said Gates in response and Castle clicked off. He then memorized the hardline phone number that was written on the screen of the phone.

Castle observed his surroundings and had an internal conflict on whether to go back to the room and stick with Montgomery. They could become a team and wait for help to arrive. It seemed like a logical plan but they were in the middle of nowhere and help wasn't arriving anytime soon.

If he went back to the room then that would give the assailants an advantage. They could corner them on each end and then pile them with a hail of bullets. It could also end with a grenade being tossed into the room.

That meant only one thing remained. Go on the offensive. And that was okay with Castle as he was more of an offensive guy than play defense.

The two dead guards outside meant that there was a sniper somewhere out there.

Two guards' dead, however, also meant the sniper would have changed positions by now.

Castle envisioned what the shooter's mind must be going through right now.

What would he do in this situation?

The only thing he could conjure up was that a person needed to think one step ahead of the target.

The front entrance escape was gone. So use the rear instead. The shooter probably had thought about that and assumed Castle would still go out from the front.

So Castle did what was the most logical step.

He went out the rear.

If there were two snipers, one at the front and other at the rear, than he was good as dead.

He exited the house but he didn't get hit. He scrambled to a nearby tree so he could do a better survey while having the tree shield him. It had gotten dark as well so that meant limited visibility and he could only make out movements. Even if he did spot the shooters than it was still useless as the gun Castle had didn't have the range to shoot that far out.

He saw nothing of significance from the rear of the house and then moved quickly to the right side of the house. He pictured where the two guards had stood and did an imaginary recon to figure out where the bullets could have come from.

The only spot he could think of was the hill about half a mile away. The hill gave a perfect view of the entrance and there were trees on it as well to give cover.

If it was a long distance shot than the higher altitude a person is the better. Almost any sniper who knew their way around a rifle could have taken that shot.

He took a quick glance at the hill and looked for any sign of the shooter.

Could it be Kate?

He laid down on his chest and then crawled forward till he was behind his car. He could now see the two bodies of the guards that had escorted him inside the house. He had grabbed the leg of one of the guards and pulled it behind the car. Castle closely examined the bullet wound and the bullet had gone through the guard's neck hitting the spine on its way out.

No chance of survival.

He looked at the other guard and knew he had suffered the same fate.

Taking a shot from a distance and hitting the neck wasn't hard if one had enough experience but hitting the spine as well and at night was harder and impressive. Whoever had taken the shot knew their way around a rifle.

This was bad news for Castle as any small mistake and he could be the next one on the ground.

He slowly opened his cars door and slipped inside without opening the whole door.

He had a plan.

And it would take effect in the next few minutes.

He slipped in the driver's seat keeping low, started the engine, and put it in neutral.

He expected what happened next.

The driver's window smashed open sending small chunks of glass over his body that was almost under the steering wheel.

This confirmed his theory that the shooter was somewhere upfront. And that lifted his spirits. The next few minutes would be crucial if he were to survive.

He placed a hand on the gas pedal and revved the engine. He then placed the gear into reverse making the car go back.

Another bullet slammed into the tire bursting it into pieces.

The car was now wobbling and it was now basically on its rim scratching the surface beneath it with a screeching sound.

He didn't need to speed up and just needed the car to keep going.

He used his side mirror as a visual aide to see what was behind him and then made a turn towards the corner of the house. He quickly dialed Montgomery's hardline phone inside the house and after a couple of rings someone picked up.

"Hello," said Montgomery in a shaky voice clearly in distress over this whole situation.

He told him his plan quickly and got a confirmation from Montgomery. "Remember the signal will be the horn."

"Understood," replied Montgomery.

The shooters were out in the front which meant that he had some time to back the car to the rear door of the house.

He reached the door and positioned the car in a way where the view of the shooter would be obscured. He then hit the horn and the rear door opened with Montgomery bursting through it. He kept low and stuck to the side of the car till he reached the rear door. He got in the car and slammed the door shut.

"Stay low," said Castle.

He once again put the car in gear and then slowly went back out to the front. This was the only way and he was willing to risk open fire on himself. There was only one single road to enter and leave the property.

As soon as the car came in sight bullets started hitting the car breaking the windows making Montgomery groan in discomfort. The man had a family and he was feeling the weight of his existence right now. Castle shot a glance at Montgomery and saw something he did not like at all.

Blood was pouring out of the hole a wound had opened in his chest. It wasn't a direct hit but rather a stray bullet that had deflected off the door.

Another bullet had burst the left rear tire as well. Two bad wheels now.

The shots were getting more accurate as one bullet barely missed Castle's shoulder. This meant the shooter was on the move.

There was a Jeep parked in front of the house near one of the guards and he parked right next to it. He quickly got out of the car and searched the guard for the keys and luckily found them. He quickly examined the car and concluded it was bullet proof, armored, and anti-bullet tires.

He went back to his car and opened the rear door. He managed to drag Montgomery out of the vehicle who was now breathing in short breaths. He slowly lifted him up to the Jeep's rear seat and shots were now hitting the Jeep.

Castle pulled out his gun and fired back. The shooters were probably at a distance so it wasn't effective but it might slow them down just a bit.

He climbed in the passenger seat and then slid over to the driver's seat. He started the truck and the rounds were now coming in rapid succession. He was tempted to shoot back but decided against it

Something remarkable happened next.

Counter fire.

He looked at where the shots had come from and saw a slender figure holding a rifle that was balanced on a tree branch. The mag was probably on auto load as the shots kept on firing at the shooters on the hill.

He squinted at the place where counter fire shots were being targeted and saw several small lights being emitted scrambling down the hill. One of the shots hit a light making it explode and stopping the advance in its tracks. There were several more lights but most of them had scattered.

The counter shooter was easily taking out the remaining shooters with ease predicting their next movement with no trouble. He saw in complete awe the last shooter go out and hit the ground.

The remaining shooters had retreated and were in full retreat. The counter shooter kept firing as the opponents tried to outsmart her by zigzagging across the hill.

Montgomery moaned once again that broke Castle out of his amazement of the counter shooters skill and he quickly put the truck in drive and slammed the gas. Just as he was about to hit single lane road he saw something that he wouldn't forget.

The counter shooter had come out of the shadows.

Dressed in army camo gear and long hair swaying in the air.

The counter shooter quickly disappeared into the darkness.

It had been a woman who had saved them.

And Castle knew without a doubt that it was Kate Beckett.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

Castle was shocked by what he had seen and wanted to go back to confirm that the shooter had indeed been Kate. But in his backseat was a severely wounded man who needed immediate medical attention. Being in the middle of nowhere, however, made it hard for Castle to find a hospital nearby.

He reached the main road, slammed on the gas, and called Gates.

She answered right away and Castle explained what had happened but left out the part about the female counter shooter.

Gates then told Castle that reinforcements were on their way and also gave him the address to the closest hospital. She told him that a team would be waiting for them there and another team had been deployed to scout Montgomery's house and the surrounding area as well.

Castle pulled over after a couple of minutes and then checked on Montgomery's wound which had now soaked his shirt in a deep red color. Castle did his best to stop the bleeding and saw Montgomery go from being conscious to unconscious numerous times. He held Castle's arm when he was awake and then let go when it was too much for him to handle.

Castle kept repeating the same mantra. "You're going to be okay, sir. Just hang in there. Relax and don't move too much. You're going to be fine."

It honestly felt like he was talking to himself because if he was being honest than he didn't know if Montgomery would make it, but this is what you told a person that was playing chess with death.

They arrived at the local hospital twenty five minutes later and he saw big unmarked Chevy Tahoe's already parked in front of the entrance. The agency personal had already arrived and as soon as they saw Castle pull over next to the entrance curb all of them rushed straight to the backseat to tend to Montgomery. He was soon stabilized inside the hospital and was then loaded onto a black helicopter which flew off to what Castle hoped was a bigger hospital that could handle a trauma patient.

Gates had arrived at the hospital ten minutes after Castle had and told him to stay behind. She took him to a private cubicle near the emergency room and started brewing coffee for both of them.

"Any news on Montgomery's condition?" asked Castle.

"He's still in shock but stable. Lost a lot of blood and the doctors didn't know whether he would be able to make it or not. This is a declaration of war by someone, Castle," replied Gates. And by 'someone' Castle knew that she meant Kate Beckett.

Castle held back what he had seen just hours ago but part of him wanted to confess. The shooter that helped them was a woman and he was sure of that. He was also positive that it had been Kate. Although he was sure so it still wasn't a fact. But, who else could it have been?

In the end he decided not to tell Gates.

"Multiple shooters," said Castle. "Kate works alone."

She gave him a cup of coffee and he took a big gulp. And he almost threw up. "This is quite possibly the worst coffee I've ever tasted. It tastes like a monkey peed in battery acid"

Gates took another sip of her coffee and then threw it in the thrash. She then proceeded to sit right next to Castle on a plastic chair. The room was half filled with smell of coffee but it smelled mostly of stale food and bleach.

"Are you sure there were multiple shooters?"

"The first two shots had come from the hill and then there too many bullets being fired for it to be a lone sniper. And plus on the way out I saw multiple lights scrambling down the hill as well. If I had to guess than maybe six or eight shooters."

Castle wondered whether the agency personal had found more dead bodies apart from the two guards. He was confident that Kate had at least shot one or two on the hill.

"Why target Montgomery?" asked Castle.

"He was the new number two."

"So this whole thing is personal vendetta against the agencies top brass? Why go after Josh then? He was just a handler and nowhere near the level of importance of Coonan or the inner circle."

"I don't know myself, Castle. If there were multiple shooters with Kate being one of them then they must have a goal in mind."

"Kind of telling that Montgomery's security detail was so light," said Castle. "Especially considering what had happened to Coonan"

Gates nodded in agreement before Castle even completed his remark. "I know."

"He comes to his house with two guards in the middle of nowhere and no secure perimeter either. Countless ways to launch an assault on him. And you don't really need to be exceptionally skilled to even get to him. Just show up to be honest."

"Montgomery called it his home."

"And that's not a reason. Agency could have used one of their safe houses and considering what had happened to Coonan. Montgomery should have been forced to not live in his house."

"You're right, Castle."

"And the person who should have told Montgomery should have been the number one, William Bracken."

"I am not exactly aware of the dynamics of the relationship between Roy and Bracken. Or what might have happened between the two in the last few days."

"So you've nothing to tell that might actually be of use?"

Gates looked at him and it was clearly on her face that she was in a middle of mental battle in her mind. "I really don't have an idea what to tell you, Castle."

"Tells me a whole lot actually."

Castle scooted closer to Gates and explained in detail the meeting he had with Montgomery. Again he didn't tell all. Just the small details that were of interest and how he had sounded troubled when he had spoken to him:

 _There were missions given the green light that shouldn't have been. People missing. Money being moved from one location to another and disappearing without a trace. Same with the equipment disappearing._

The most troubling part had been the last part where Montgomery had told him that _there was an internal conflict raging in the agency and he didn't know whether Kate had any knowledge of it. What he did know was that it had reached a crisis point._

Being an agency man Castle would have told his higher up, that being Gates, the last part but he didn't. Not right now.

"Anything else that Montgomery said?" asked Gates.

"When will we know whether he will make it or not?"

"Couple of days according to the last message."

"Has he said anything yet?"

"Nothing yet. He was unconscious when he got here as you know and remained that way. Hopefully in the next few days he will probably give a personal statement."

"Interim number two?" asked Castle.

"I don't think anyone will take the job even if Bracken forced them," replied Gates.

"Is Bracken even going to show up?"

"He knows what has happened but I don't know if he will make a trip down here. And I am sure he wants to know what happened from you."

"I have already told you what I know."

"So you didn't see anyone else out there?"

Castle without hesitation replied, "I only saw the shooters and they were at least half a mile away. My main priority was getting Montgomery out of there. Didn't have time to go and say hello to the shooters."

"I understand," said Gates. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Yes. The Jeep is probably evidence now and the other car is in shambles."

"I am going to stay here for a while in this area. I'll tell one of my men to take you back."

As soon as both of them were about to get up and leave, the door opened and three men walked in all black suits and sunglasses.

"Richard Castle?"

Castle measured them up. "And who are you?"

"We would appreciate it if you came with us."

"And who is this 'we'?" said Gates stepping in front of Castle.

"Please, ma'am. This doesn't concern you," replied the man who had been talking.

"It does concern me. Castle is with me," said Gates taking out her creds.

The man spoke again. "Right, ma'am. We know exactly who you are." The man took out his creds and flashed them in front of Gates. Upon reading them Gates stepped back and Castle knew these were people of relative importance.

Castle had taken a glance at the credentials too and he had recognized them as well. He wasn't shocked to see Gates take a step back.

When the National Security Advisor for the United States wanted to meet. You went. No questions asked.

The three men accompanied Castle to the hospital exit and then got into a SUV.

Driving away Castle knew one thing for sure.

He wasn't going home for a while.

* * *

Kate was sitting in her car which was parked next to a curb on a street somewhere in D.C. it was normally filled with traffic but it was late at night and despite it being one of the main streets in D.C. it lay empty.

Her rifle was in the trunk of the car and it was still hot from having being used to fire more than fifty bullets at her targets. She might have saved Castle's life; but she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure whether Montgomery might still live or not but she had saved his life as well otherwise it was almost a certain death. Without her and Castle's intervention, Montgomery would be in a morgue right now.

This lifted Kate's spirits and that was rare for her. Especially these days.

It was a mistake on Montgomery's part to keep such a weak security detail especially how far he lived away from the city. She had been to his house once to discuss her future but that was years ago. Although she still remembered it vividly as it was the first time in more than a decade that she had a dinner with another family. His family wasn't in the house during the shootout and she was thankful for that.

But she smiled grimly at that memory of meeting Montgomery.

It had taken place to discuss her future.

 _My future, huh,_ she thought.

A sudden realization had struck her when she had left Esposito. She was aware of the fact that Montgomery was the new number two. And she had found out through the personal backdoors that were still open to her. They were going to be shut off soon but she intended to make full use of them in the meantime. She had figured that Castle was going to meet the new number two but what she didn't know was that it was their second face to face meeting.

Kate and Montgomery went way back and their relationship dated back further than anyone she knew at the agency. Montgomery was one of the few people that she knew would have her back. That was no longer possible. Kate had not only crossed a line, but had completely erased it in the process.

She had followed Castle to Montgomery's house and in the beginning she had no idea where they were headed. As the roads had become thinner she had become paranoid that Castle would spot her eventually. She finally recognized some of the landmarks and had an idea where Castle would be heading. She had stopped following Castle and set up a nest almost a quarter mile west from the hill. But she hadn't seen the all-out assault coming.

In the midst of her firing rampage, she was sure that she had severed a few scalps. And if she had then the mess would have been cleaned up by now. The place would be left spotless.

She was impressed by how Castle had managed to pull off the escape in the Jeep. He was smart enough and worked calmly despite the hailstorm of bullets. And it was to be expected as he was the only person who had beaten her in the academy. Both had made it a competition to set a new record and then beat it during their earlier missions. But Castle had gotten ahead enough for her to give it rest. Never in life would she have imagined that she would be pitted against Castle.

Her mind went back to Montgomery again.

Why did they target him? What did he know that was so important that they had sent almost a dozen shooters after him?

She knew that Montgomery knew more than he let on. He was aware of some things that even some people in the agency were not. The agency had probably thought that Montgomery would make a decent number two in charge.

 _No, not a decent number two, rather a safe one,_ she thought.

They obviously didn't know Montgomery as Kate did.

He was a man that had started in the agency few years before the Cold War had started. As a black man in the seventies there were many in federal agencies that didn't seem fit to work with him. To prove them wrong he had worked twice as hard and had to be as tough as a Marine to reach the upper levels of the agency. The only person she could think of that had quite possibly worked harder was Victoria Gates.

The weather hadn't changed in D.C. that much but Mother Nature had decided to give the area she was in a little rest. However the wind warnings were still in effect as the winds rocked against Kate's car making it sway just a little. She started the car and turned on the heat but didn't move the gear to move the car. The rain storms had left the streets wet and had made many people move to drier locations so that left Kate a clear view of the pavement. The rain had cleaned the pavement and made it as clear as possible. She wished that her thoughts were that clear. But her mind was in the middle of a sandstorm right now barely seeing what was in front of her.

Vulcan Simmons and another target had been warned beforehand. And now they were on the offensive. Kate couldn't prove it but she knew that this group was responsible for the attack on Montgomery. And that was troubling. They knew something about Montgomery that she wasn't aware of. They had made a surprising move and they probably had an extraordinary justification for the move.

She pulled out her phone and stared at the screen. To text Castle would be really simple. The agency couldn't trace her but she knew that they were keeping tabs on Castle's phone. That meant she had to be careful and not just for her but for him as well. It was ironic really because not too long ago she had tried to burn him alive and here she was trying to protect him. There were possibilities that had opened up for her and she was willing to take a risk with them.

She quickly wrote a text and then sent it to Castle. It was done and now she needed to wait and see what happened next. It was on Castle now and how he would react.

The rain had started to fall again and she pulled away from the curb driving fast through the empty street.

She had never worn a military uniform before but she had definitely killed more people than some of the most acknowledged soldiers. She had risked her life during every kill. And yet she had killed for people who were sitting far away at a safe distance. She never questioned any of the orders. She had put faith in the system and had done her job.

But the time had come where she didn't.

Her mother had been murdered violently in front of her by a monster. And the monster had nearly taken her life as well. She still had the scars from that day and they had been engraved in her mind as well. They never healed no matter what she tried.

Her experience had led her to become a trained killer and the profession had given her something she never thought she would have.

Transparency of action.

There was a battle that has gone as old as time itself.

The good versus the bad.

Bad usually lost and the good prevailed.

It was like she was extinguishing the neo-Nazis she had taken down for eternity. And every other demon that dared try to walk among humankind creating destruction.

It wasn't that simple.

A realization that had taken years for Kate to comprehend had struck and it was the simple fact that the best decision maker of what was good and what was evil was herself. And it had been smeared as it was by what she'd done in the past.

Her break up with her employer had not been an easy choice. But she didn't realize that once the choice had been made how good it felt to think for herself.

She thought about Castle again and wondered whether he had faced the same dilemma.

She wondered what Castle would think of the present that she had left for him.

* * *

The person Castle was going to meet in the next few minutes was in the upper echelon of the most important people in the US political structure. He was technically the president's assistant to National Security Affairs and the position he held went by the acronym APNSA. He was not approved by the senate and was given the job directly by the president and his workplace was in the White House itself right next to the Oval Office where the president resided. The person who was given the job of APNSA could not head any agency unlike many other people such as the secretary of defense.

Many would feel that the APNSA was small fry and had little to no influence. They would be dead wrong.

The APNSA had direct communication with the president and often the person was considered the right ear of the president. If a person was that close to the president than the influence and authority was unmatched. The person would usually operate from the situation room with the president seated next to them during a period of crisis.

Castle was aware of the APNSA and was currently in route to the White House. The SUV was given the clearance and went through the metal gates to arrive at the entrance of quite possibly the most famous address in the world.

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. The White House.

The group of men exited the SUV with Castle in the middle of the group and he was not taken to the Situation Room. He thought the room would soon be busy if things kept going the way they were.

They passed the room and arrived in a small conference room where he was told to sit in one of the chairs. He did what he was told and took a seat. The door closed but he knew the guards were still there outside the room.

He wondered whether the president was in town. The president must have been briefed on all the things that had happened and what the president thought of the briefing was something that Castle didn't know.

Castle sat alone for ten minutes and knew that his wait was probably due to the insane amount of things, even dire who knew, that the APNSA might be juggling at this very moment. Terror never slept.

He snapped out of his haze when the door reopened and in walked a man that was not known by almost any of the people that had voted for the president. Castle guessed that he would prefer the anonymity.

His name was Sidney Perlmutter. He was almost in his seventies, still remarkably fit for his age, and he had shoulders that told the story of a past baseball player. Castle imagined that he would have played football as well but his brain was well intact and his mind seemed to be working at full cylinders. He was known for going after terrorists and any threat against the states. And he was one of the few that was trusted by the president.

He sat across the table from Castle, put on a pair of glasses, and then looked down on the iPad he had placed on the table. Like the rest of the world, The White House had gone digital as well. He quickly read whatever was on the tablet, took off his glasses, and then sat back looking at Castle.

"The president sends his regards."

"I am thankful."

"And he is thankful as well for your service and appreciates you."

The kissing ass part was over and Perlmutter was now in serious mode. "Not a pleasant night for you."

"Indeed. Not the very least pleasant and unexpected as well."

"Montgomery looks well according to the last report. He might pull through."

"That's great news," said Castle genuinely relieved.

"I have read the report thoroughly and I have to say that it doesn't say anywhere who the attackers were."

"They were firing from long range and I couldn't get a look at them up close. Forensics find anything?"

"Shit load of shell casings."

"Any bodies?" asked Castle.

 _Shit_ , thought Castle.

Perlmutter than looked up immediately from the file he was reading. "Why would there be bodies? You were at a distance weren't you?"

Castle had misspoken and was now in damage control. Maybe he was tired but he should have stuck with the script that he had given Gates.

"I fired shots at them from my car when I was helping Montgomery into the backseat of the Jeep. One of my shots could have met its intended target who knows."

Perlmutter didn't hear any of this and that was a concern to Castle. It seemed like he had made up his mind already on the situation and Castle then realized what Perlmutter had said.

 _Shit load of shell casings._

But it was too late and it seemed like Perlmutter had read his mind. "The scene had over fifty shell casings, Mr. Castle. Most of them had originated from the hill that you said was the vantage point. But here is my concern. We also found casings that were targeted towards the hill and there were scope glass scattered everywhere and flashlights as well. So my question is, Mr. Castle. Who else was there?"

Perlmutter looked at Castle sharply.

Castle didn't reply to the question he was asked, Perlmutter then said, "I am pretty sure you couldn't have missed the person who had fired almost forty bullets towards the hill where the shooters were firing on you. Who was the guardian angel protecting you? And why wasn't that reported?"

"Trust, Mr. Perlmutter. That is my answer."

From Castle's blank expression, it was obvious that Perlmutter was not expecting that answer. "What the hell do you mean?"

"During my meeting with Mr. Montgomery, he had confessed something to me in regards to how things had gone south at the agency and some other places. Many things have popped up that has disturbed him. A crisis even. And he only had two guards as his security detail and also said that they were the only people he truly trusted."

Perlmutter took off his glasses and wiped them as though that might help him understand what Castle had just said.

"So you're telling that the number two in the agency didn't trust his employer? The CIA?" he asked. "I am sorry, Mr. Castle. But that is hard to comprehend on many levels."

"I am just the messenger of what was told to me by Mr. Montgomery."

"Another thing that that didn't make it in your report. And Mr. Montgomery is not to confirm your claims."

"He invited me to his house and tell me what I have just told you."

"Your words, Mr. Castle."

"So I assume that you don't believe me then."

"And I assume that you don't believe in anything either."

Castle stayed silent and shook his head.

Perlmutter continued. "What I am told and have read is that an agent has gone rogue and killed agency personal. You were then tapped to find, investigate, and then terminate the rogue agent. You don't seem any closer to finding her and it is quickly becoming obvious that you are also believing that the real enemy is on the inside rather than the outside."

"When there is information that is withheld than two things tend to happen. Your confidence in the higher ups goes down and also makes it a lot harder to investigate as well."

"Information that was withheld?"

"Censored files. Altered crime scenes. And meetings where there are more questions raised than answers. Everyone has a different agenda. A perfect mix for a case to go unsolved."

Perlmutter looked down again but this time at his hands and moments later looked up saying, "Answer one question for me. Did you see the other shooter?"

Castle didn't reply immediately. "It was a woman. I am sure of that. Didn't see the face clearly but I know for a fact it was a woman."

"And you didn't feel it was a necessary to confirm your suspicion?"

This time it was Castle's turn to bring the heat. "I think you're forgetting that I had a wounded Montgomery in my backseat who was on the verge of dying. The shooters were rushing down the hill. And that left me no choice but to evacuate the premises. My main concern was the survival of Mr. Montgomery."

Perlmutter had realized what he said and was nodding before Castle had even finished. "You are absolutely right, Mr. Castle. Completely understand the situation you were in and of course the safety of Mr. Montgomery would have been the highest priority as well. You will be commended for that."

Perlmutter than joined his hands, placed them on the table, and then said, "Do you have any idea who that woman might have been?"

"I could make an educated guess and I am confident in it as well."

"I guess I have no choice but to hear it then," said Perlmutter looking at Castle with some disdain.

"It was the rogue agent, Kate Beckett. The same agent I was assigned to hunt down."

* * *

 _The Javier Esposito Dojo_ for martial arts wouldn't be open for several more hours. But Kate knew that the dojo master always arrived earlier. So now she was sitting in her car outside in the parking lot waiting for him to show up. She saw him drive up and quickly flashed her headlights as Esposito parked his Ford truck.

He got out of his car, observed the surroundings, and then walked over to Kate's car.

He got in the passenger seat and Kate started the engine and took off.

Javier Esposito was wearing a Bruce Lee shirt, soccer trousers, and running shoes. She assumed that most of his clothes were of the similar range.

"Where are we heading?" he asked. "I have to check the weights and the octagon as well."

"Not too far. It won't be long either if you have what I need. Enough time for a cup of coffee and donut."

She pointed at the cup holder and a donut sitting next to it. "Ah, you knew about my cheat day." He took a small sip and then closed his eyes in satisfaction.

Coffee had a weird effect on some people.

"I didn't have enough time," he said taking a bite of the donut.

"You never needed time in the past."

Javier took another sip of his coffee and wiped his mouth with a tissue. "I would get into a shit load of trouble for even talking to you."

"And you would be right."

"You still want me to help you?"

"Of course. If you were in my position, wouldn't you?"

"Hate it when you become logical."

"You're a dojo master. I thought you lived by logic?"

"I don't kill guys doing martial arts. Just train to discover the limits of the human body."

None of them spoke after that for a while.

"That was stupid thing to say. I am sorry, Kate," he said in a soft tone.

"Not stupid when it's the truth."

"You just can't stop being logical huh?" he asked. "You seem more logical than some guys who study physics for a living."

"I prefer logic over chaos. When I am given the choice that is."

They drove in silence yet again. The rain had started to fall again and for Kate it seemed to represent her life being wasted away.

"Did they deserve the grave?" asked Esposito breaking the silence again.

She didn't reply.

He glanced at her and said, "I know you. Whenever you do something that involves someone's life there is a reason."

"I don't deserve credit for something that wasn't earned in the first place."

"What do you mean by that? Asked Esposito sharply.

"I have killed countless people not knowing whether they deserved it or not. Only the higher ups knew what was best and I executed their will. So don't give me credit of knowing the reason behind my targets."

"That's the life you chose. The job you signed up for. The job that I even signed up for. We were the weapon of justice. At least that was what we were being told."

"And most of it was true, Javi. We were on the right. Sometimes. Humanity will always have some that are less than perfect and nature will make sure the human cycle remains imperfect."

"So tell me, Kate. Did they deserve to die?"

Kate took a quick right on a street, pulled over, and then put the car in park. She turned to Esposito and looked at him straight.

"Yes, Javi. They deserved it. Why? It's not simple and very complicated. The simple part is done. The complicated part will take time. And it has a chance of never being complete."

"So it's not done yet?" he asked.

"Does it look like it?"

"Hell to the no."

She put the car in drive and then started driving again. "If I tell you anymore then you become an accomplice. So let's not delve on it okay? Do you have what I need?"

"Yes," he said pulling out a USB from his right pocket and handed it to her. She took it and put it in her pocket.

"Haven't seen anything on it."

"For the better," she said.

"How did you even know that it even existed?"

"They are already acting on it that's why. Without a plan you don't through something that could have drastic effects. You don't somewhere without a map. You need to write it down and save it as reference."

"And who is 'they'?"

Kate stayed silent.

"I guess you have to kill me too then," said Esposito.

"I guess you're right," said Kate with a faint smile.

Esposito rubbed a hand though his forehead and looked away.

"Did I get your coffee right?" she asked.

He took a sip. "It's perfect. You remember well."

"When you're always two seconds from dying then you develop a habit of remembering the smallest things. One cream put in before the coffee, then one sugar. Let it stir itself. That's what kept me from losing it. Probably the same for you, right?"

"Ah, the old days. What else do you remember, manita?"

Kate stopped at a red light and looked out the window. She was remembering the past through images and most of them were things that you never forgot.

"The wind had gotten stronger. The sand was like acid and my rifle kept locking up. There was never enough food and water. The one thing I remember is thinking why were we there in the first place? The place would have remained the same. The only thing we leave behind is blood and most of it ours."

Esposito turned and looked out the window. He drank his coffee slowly, griping it tightly, like it would be his last cup ever

"Javi, did you close the backdoors that lead to you?"

"Tried my best. They would need someone better than me to trace it back to me. Don't think they will be able to. I know high school kids that can run circles around the guys at the NSA."

"You never know. Watch your back, Javi. Overconfidence leads to bad coffee."

"I know. It's going rain all day today too."

"At this rate it might rain forever for me."

"And how long will that be? Your life, I mean," he said.

"I have no idea. All on what happens and who gets ahead."

"You shouldn't go out this, Kate. Not after everything you have done."

"It's because of what I have done, Espo. I am doing this all because I can't fathom to look at myself in the mirror knowing what I did. If people did what they had planned out then they wouldn't do half the things they end up doing."

"They must have hurt you bad."

 _They really hurt someone I cared about,_ thought Kate. _They hurt him so much he's dead. And when they hurt him, they hurt me. And now it's my turn to hurt them back._

Kate said, "Yeah, something along those lines."

They reached the mall again, she parked near the entrance closest to the dojo, and he got out.

"I really appreciate the help, Javi. It won't come back to you from me."

"I know."

He started to walk away and then turned around and ducked inside Kate's window.

"I hope you make it, manita," he said and kissed her forehead. "No dejes que los perros se le." (Don't let those dogs get you).

"I hope so, Javi."

"Who did they tap to come after you?"

"Castle."

Esposito whispered something what Kate assumed was a swear word in Spanish under his breath and his eyes grew wide. "God, really? Castle?"

"I know. But he might go a little easy on me."

"And why the hell would he do that?"

"Saved his life last night."

"I truly don't understand your logic."

Kate drove on, leaving Esposito in the rain even more confused than before. She drove for a few miles and then parked in a garage. She put the car in park but didn't turn off the engine. She pulled out a small laptop and plugged in the USB. A document popped up and she read it as though her life depended on it.

A plane ride was next after she had read the text.

And after that, would be decided then.

She pulled out of the garage and drove off.

* * *

 **Quick Note:** College has started back up for me so updates could have delays in the future. I am sorry :(

Really excited for the new season of Castle and what they do now. My guess would be a pregnancy or something along the lines of family. Maybe Kate might run for Senate or become Captain?


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

After meeting with the APNSA Castle was then dropped off in front of his apartment complex. He was escorted in the same SUV that had taken him to the White House and almost nothing was said nothing between them. Castle stood on the curbs edge and saw the SUV join the morning traffic towards D.C.

Perlmutter hadn't said much after Castle had told him that the counter shooter may have been Kate the one that could have saved Castle's and Montgomery's life the night before. Perlmutter had then written something on his iPad, given Castle a few glances while typing, and then left the room.

Castle had remained seated till a guard had come to escort him back to the SUV. He had been to the White House before but this recent trip had been memorable and disturbing at the same time.

He looked up to his apartment from the curb and couldn't remember the last time he was this tired before. And that was saying a lot because in the past he had endured days without water and little food under difficult conditions.

 _Maybe I am getting old_ , he thought. _But, I am thirty five_.

It was hard for him to come to terms with the limits of his body. His physical health had never been a concern for him but in the past few months it had come to a point where waking up every morning had become troublesome for him.

He took the elevator up to his apartment floor, opened his door, typed in the alarm code, and then closed the door behind him. He put his forehead against the door and closed his eyes. A lot had happened the past week and sometimes even the hardest person needed a break from being tough all the time. Sometimes he wished there was someone waiting for him when he got home. They could unwind and have wine to end the day while talking to each other about how their day was. That thought put a smile on his weary face. What would it be like to just be normal for a day?

He opened his eyes again and pulled out his phone which he had forgotten was turned off during his visit to the White House. The phone buzzed open and he saw a text message had arrived. He opened the text message which read:

 _Everything that I have done is for a reason. Open the lock and you'll know._

Castle sat down on his sofa and stared at the screen for a few minutes. He pondered over the message for several more minutes and then took a long shower which lasted almost thirty minutes as he let the hot water pierce his skin to relieve some of the stress. He clothed himself and poured himself some coffee. He sat down at a round table which was next to the kitchen and read the text again.

 _Everything that I have done is for a reason. Open the lock and you'll know._

Kate had been responsible for many things. Which one does he focus on? What was this object that he was supposed to unlock?

 _The killings?_

 _When she had come to his aid?_

 _Her sending this text?_

 _Everything up till now?_

The agency probably knew about this by now and he expected a call from them soon enough. They had probably already assigned analysts to work out what the text meant. But there was no call. Maybe they were confused on how to approach him. He thought about replying back to Kate, asking her what she had meant. The agency would know about that too. He didn't want to risk getting her in danger because of him. He decided not to reply.

He finished his coffee, got up from his chair, stretched, and put his phone back in his pocket. He wanted to get some sleep, but time was not with him.

A sudden realization hit him that he needed a new car or rent a new one. His was probably in an evidence locker somewhere with bullet holes decorating the outside and the inside ripped apart from the bullets.

He took a cab to a rental car place and signed the papers to rent a Mercedes-Benz. He liked the brand and it was one of the few things that made him feel happy on the inside. The little kid in him was thankful. He had rented the last car from this same place as well and wondered whether he was now on some kind of black list for customers.

He drove off in his car, towards the hospital where Montgomery had been admitted. He had received an email from Gates about the necessary details concerning Montgomery shortly before he had arrived home. He arrived there thirty minutes later after the heavy rain and rush-hour traffic took their toll on his journey.

He assumed that Montgomery's room or floor was full of security. But it wasn't. And that was a bad sign. Seeing the ICU floor completely barren of activity was an even worse sign.

He asked one of the nurses where Montgomery was and didn't get a response. The nurse had stared point blank at him as if he was talking nonsense.

 _They probably didn't use his real name_ , he thought.

He remembered the room Gates had said that Montgomery had been given. ICU ROOM 6.

He looked around the floor and then pointed at the room door. "The man in that room," he asked the nurse.

The nurse didn't reply.

"Is he dead?" he asked wanting to know the fate of the man that he had tried to protect.

Another older nurse walked up to them and she looked like the floor manager of the ICU. Castle asked her the same questions as well.

The woman observed him for a few moments and then took him by the elbow to a corner. Castle pulled out his creds which she took in her hands and read carefully.

"The patient's current condition is unknown. And the location as well."

"How is that even possible? This is a hospital. Do you just let a random person check a patient out?" asked Castle.

"Are you related to the patient? An associate perhaps?"

"Why does that matter?"

"I have worked here for a long time and rest assured we get all types come through here. And the type that man was is classified. There was no name given. They came back this morning and escorted him out this morning. They didn't give us a location where the man was being taken. I would like to think they have given him the medical attention needed."

"Who is 'they'?"

"Men in all black suits and sunglasses. They had ID's and were very imposing as well. Scared half of my staff."

"Did you see what the ID's said?"

"Homeland Security."

Now it was Castle's turn to look at the head nurse in shock.

Homeland Security was involved. And the CIA and DHS didn't play nice with each other. The agency policies and the nature of their work had made sure of that. For Homeland Security to get Montgomery out of a CIA approved hospital would need Langley's approval. Castle couldn't believe the near impossible was happening. The CIA and DHS were working together.

Castle snapped out of his haze and refocused on the nurse. "They didn't mention where he was being taken?"

"Nothing."

"Was it safe for him to be moved?"

"I have been here a long time and a nurse even longer. That man was in no condition to be moved. But they did anyway."

"Were his injuries bad at that time?"

"That's confidential."

"I was the one next to him when he had gotten shot. I was the one that had dragged him from the claws of death and the people who were trying to kill him. My agency had sent me to check on him. And you can understand my shock that he's not here. I understand somethings are meant to be confidential, but you don't even know his name. He was the man in Room 6. I am sure you talking doesn't violate any rules."

The woman looked at Castle and then bit her lips. "The situation isn't ordinary at all."

"And no truer words have been said."

The nurse gave him a faint smile. "He was taken directly to the ICU and he was going to stay there for a while. The wound in his chest was a deep one and barely missed a major artery. Lots of internal damage however. We performed surgery and removed the bullet. Long rehab sessions would be the next step and for a very long time. That is if he makes it. And that's all that I know."

Castle thanked her and left.

On the way to his car he called Gates and told her what he had been told. He was listening carefully to Gates reaction. Castle wanted to know if Gates was already aware of this and needed to know.

The next words from Gates confirmed the fact that she didn't know what was happening either.

"Dear god, Castle. What is happening?"

"I'll try and find out," replied Castle ending the call. He got into his car and thought about what he would do next.

There were several ways he could pursue this, but only one way was the most straight and would get him the answers. And right now, Castle needed to be straight.

He punched the gas and the Mercedes's engine roared into action.

When there were questions that needed legitimate answers, it was best that it came from the people right at the top.

* * *

William Bracken's motorcade pulled out from his house with him in the middle SUV and headed down a spiraling road. The lead SUV suddenly came to a grinding halt and nearly all the men in the rest of the motorcade came out with their guns raised.

Blocking the two lane road was a Mercedes. Standing in front of the car was Richard Castle. And almost in an instant he was surrounded by six agents with their guns pointed at him.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP NOW!" shouted one of the agents.

Castle remained silent and didn't move a muscle with his hands still in his pocket. "Tell your boss this. If we don't have a conversation right now then I am going to the FBI and telling them everything. And trust me when I say this. He won't like that one bit."

"I REPEAT. HANDS UP. RIGHT NOW."

Castle glanced at the agent that had spoken. "And I repeat. Get your boss. Now."

All the agents that had surrounded Castle closed in to tackle him. One of the agents ended up on the hood of the Mercedes. One fell to the ground in agony holding his wrist. And a third one wanted to try his luck but then a man ran up to the scene shouting, "Stop this right now! Enough!"

They all turned to see William Bracken standing in front of the lead SUV.

"Stop this right now."

The agents that had taken the worst of Castle quickly got up, threw a rough glance at him, and then went back in positions not too far from Castle.

Bracken analyzed the damage his agents had taken and then looked at Castle. "Do you have any concerns, Castle?"

"Oh, yes I do have a concern. And it's related to Roy Montgomery."

The neighborhood had waken up and many had come out of their houses in shock of what was happening on their street. Some were standing next to their cars holding their children's hands with bemused expressions as well.

"Castle," hissed Bracken. "We are in public."

"That's not my concern. I already informed your guys that I wanted to talk in private. And apparently they didn't like that idea."

Bracken looked to his left and saw a small five year old boy standing next to his mother who was on the verge of crying at the sight of all the guns that were pointed at Castle.

Bracken thin lips turned into a smile. "Little misunderstanding everyone. We will be leaving now. Sorry about this and have a nice day." He glared at Castle. "You with me. Now."

Castle didn't move. "I am going in my car and I'll follow you. My car is a rental so I don't want to lose it. And I think you know what happened to my last one."

Bracken contemplated on what Castle had said and then walked back to his SUV and got in slamming the door. Castle got into his car and then moved next to a curb letting the motorcade pass him and then followed them.

They reached a major street that led to a highway and Castle took a quick right into a parking lot which had a breakfast diner. He saw the motorcade stop and reverse making the cars behind them honk in anger. Castle walked into the diner and saw the motorcade pull into the parking lot and now almost every car in the intersection had started to honk.

Castle walked inside the diner towards a hostess stand. A teenage girl approached him with a menu in hand.

"Breakfast for one, sir?"

"Make that two. We will need more room, however, for six more guys to surround a table."

The teenagers eyes widened in shock. "Wait, what?"

"A private room would be great if you guys have one."

"A private room?"

Castle quickly took out his creds and flashed them in front of the waitress. "Don't worry. We are the good guys."

Castle ordered one cup of tea and a cup of coffee. Moments later Bracken walked in looking angry with his entourage right behind him. The hostess almost became smaller as she guided the group of men towards the table Castle was sitting in.

"It's fine. I have got it from here," said Castle to the scared waitress who ran back into the kitchen.

The waitress had escorted Castle to table in a corner which was the most private area in the diner and it was now slowly starting to fill with people. It was still somewhat empty thankfully. The closest people were at least six tables away and they had also gotten up to move three tables up.

"What is the meaning of all this?" snapped Bracken.

"Didn't have breakfast. And I needed some food. I ordered you coffee."

"We cannot discuss anything here."

"This is the place that I am willing to discuss anything. And the only place."

"Do you want me to get you arrested?"

"Last I checked the Director had no arresting authority in the US. And you don't want the cops involved either. Way above their pay grade. If they come here then all of us are getting arrested. So please have a seat, have your guys sit down in nearby tables, tell them to start their anti-surveillance device which I know they have, and let's talk."

Bracken stared at Castle, took a deep breath, and then finally sat down. He told his men exactly what Castle had told him and a low vibrating sound started up as one of the agents started a small device.

"How do you take your coffee? Cream and sugar?" asked Castle.

"Black is fine."

The teenage waitress squeaked past the guards and approached Castle's table. She asked in a shaky voice, "Do you guys want to order now?"

Before the guards got up to escort her away Castle quickly spoke up. "Yes, I am. How about you director?"

Bracken continued to stare at Castle and shook his head. He then glanced at the menu. "No please wait. Turns out I am hungry." He paused. "What is the house special?"

The young woman looked terrified and it seemed she would rather be in a pool of sharks than standing in front of them. "We are known for our pancakes and sausages. Would you like that, sir?"

Bracken aimed an icy smile at Castle. "That would be great. Thank you."

"I'll take the same," said Castle with faint smile of his own.

The waitress quickly wrote down the order and then practically ran away to the kitchen. Castle stopped smiling and was now staring blankly at Bracken.

"Can we talk about it now?" asked Bracken.

"Just one question. Where is Roy Montgomery?"

"He's at the hospital, Castle" snapped Bracken in response.

"That's great to hear. But which one? The one he was in last night has no idea where he is now."

Bracken froze with his coffee mug halfway to his mouth. He looked at the coffee steaming in the cup and placed it back on the table.

"So you really didn't know," said Castle taking a sip of his coffee.

"That's not possible. Where is he gone? He just had a surgery. He was in critical condition last I checked."

"So you're telling me that none of your guys at that hospital tell you that people from Homeland Security came and took him away to who knows where? Now, I would have said that was impossible, but I guess I'd be wrong."

Bracken looked down at his coffee and took a small sip.

Castle observed him closely and assumed that Bracken was probably buying time because his mind was in a hundred places right now.

"Homeland Security? You sure about that?" Bracken finally asked.

"The supervising nurse was flashed the creds and she's sure it was them that had taken Montgomery."

Bracken remained silent.

Castle said, "While you're thinking about that. I should tell you that I met with the APNSA as well."

"Perlmutter? Why?" asked Bracken sharply.

"Didn't have a choice. They came and took me. Perlmutter was on point and not very pleased after what I had told him."

Bracken took another sip of the coffee. That was mistake on Bracken's part. Powerful people weren't supposed to show weakness and Castle had seen his hand tremble picking up the coffee.

"And what exactly did you tell him?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Of course why wouldn't I?"

"There was a good reason that I am sitting here right now and Montgomery got out alive."

"What was that?"

"A guardian angel showed up."

"What angel?"

"I think your know her. Kate Beckett."

Bracken's lips parted and nothing came out at first. Finally, he blurted out, "Not possible."

"And that was my first thought as well. Knowing that you guys told me that she was a traitor."

"Why did Montgomery want to meet?"

"Shared some interesting things. Particularly about past missions."

"Care to elaborate?" demanded Bracken.

"Mostly about missions that shouldn't have happened. Missing personal and equipment. Money gone in the wind." Castle went on to tell Bracken in greater detail what Roy had confided in him. After he was done, Bracken was about to reply, but Castle held up his hand and pointed with his eyebrows to the left.

Food had arrived.

Three men that were standing in front of the table parted and the small waitress waded through placing plates in front of them.

"Can I get you guys something else? More coffee?" she asked in a shaky tone.

"I am good," replied Bracken.

"Please. Another cup for me," said Castle.

The waitress filled the cup and then fled.

Castle started to eat while Bracken watched him in silence.

"Did Montgomery go in detail about the missions, money, and equipment?"

"No. I would try and find out If I were you."

Bracken shook his head and looked out the window. Castle couldn't tell whether he was agreeing or disagreeing. "You sure it was Beckett?"

"Same height, build, and it was definitely a woman."

"So you're not sure?" asked Bracken.

"How many women do you have in the agency that could take on a half dozen trained killers in a gun battle and win?" said Castle. "Hell, how many guys do you have who can do that?"

Bracken started cutting his eggs and the two of them ate in silence for a few minutes.

Castle put the last piece of sausage in his mouth, drank the last bit of coffee, and then sat back in his seat.

Bracken did the same. "If it was Beckett, then why?"

"I was hoping you could answer that."

"Why do you think I have the answer to that?"

"You're the Director. And if you don't have an answer, then who does?"

"Homeland Security?"

"Still not playing with your big brother?"

Bracken shook his head again. "For the longest time it was the FBI that everyone hated. Now it's the DHS that we hate more than the FBI."

"Not every day that you guys work with someone else anyways."

"We do more than you think, Castle."

"Then be the bigger person and call the DHS. Ask them nicely to return your number two."

"Not that simple."

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

"Elaborate."

"Don't have the time to explain. I have to be places right now."

Castle stood from his seat. "Fine. Then attend to your business. But if you get the time then do find out whether Montgomery is even alive."

"I care about him too, Richard. You make it seem that I don't care about my employees. He was a friend first."

"You were always good at saying the best things. Actions matter more, William."

"What are you going to do next regarding Kate?"

"Until someone explains to me what the hell is going on then there is no next step. I am officially retired from the field."

"You would be going against orders," exclaimed Bracken.

"So arrest me."

Castle pushed through the guards and exited the diner.

When Bracken started to leave, the trembling waitress sidled over and handed him the bill and then fled. The CIA director stared down at it for a moment and then slowly pulled out his wallet.

* * *

Castle sat down on his sofa as soon as he reached his apartment. He was currently thinking of a way to get information that wouldn't raise any alarm bells. The information needed was hard to come by when you had a monolith agency looking at your every step.

He did, however, operate in the covert world. Thus through the years he had gathered resources and a particular skill set. He was going to need them in a short time from now.

He drove to a mall, parked in a public garage, and then went shopping. He was there for three hours and in the process had accumulated more than three shopping bags.

He got some coffee, sat down at a table in a corner, and then slowly drank the hot liquid. He had also gotten a cupcake even though he wasn't hungry.

He got up from his seat, threw away the empty cup, and then walked out of the coffee shop.

He wasn't sure that he was being followed, but in a mall you could never tell.

He had to assume that the level of interest in him had gone up significantly and other agencies were probably in the mix too.

Homeland Security had Montgomery. Maybe. That agency had a lot of resources allocated to them in past decade which included satellites and satellites weren't easy to beat. But there was always a way to beat them.

Castle checked a clock inside a store to check the time. It was good a time as any. They really needed to be on the move now.

He didn't go back to his car. Instead took an elevator down to the train station.

As the elevators door slid open he was instantly greeted with hordes of people rushing in both directions trying to make the train. He weaved himself in one group that was headed to a train and he got on just in time. He dropped his bags when he stepped in which made some people notice and some surround him.

The final warning of the train gates closing filled the train tube as Castle made his way down to the end of the train. He looked back as he reached the end of the car. Two men were fighting their way onto the car by forcibly pushing the crowd out of the way.

He didn't know who they were. But what he did know for sure was that they were his tail.

He had seen the signs when he had entered the mall and they had become too obvious at one point.

Right as the doors were about to close at the end of the train, Castle stepped out of the train.

The train left the station while Castle walked towards the exit and into a sea of people making him practically invisible.

There was an elevator at the end of the station but he didn't take it. Instead he took the door that was around the elevator that many didn't notice was there. It was a maintenance area and inside he ran into two men that were already inside. They asked him what he was doing here and after a few moments of him flashing his creds he was allowed to go further into the area.

The two men left the area and Castle took that as a chance and flipped his jacket inside out changing its color from black to blue. He put on a baseball cap and sunglasses to along with it.

He exited the mall, walked for a few moments, hailed a cab, and was then on his way out of the city.

The cab stopped several miles before his final destination as he wanted to walk the rest of the way.

He was walking towards a small shoe repair shop which was in an area of rundown houses and barely functioning businesses. He walked into the store and a bell rang indicating that someone had walked in. The door closed itself behind him.

He stopped, took off his glasses, his baseball cap, and looked around. It had everything a shoe repair shop could have and the only difference was that the owner of this shop didn't rely on shoes alone to make money.

The owner peeked at the intruder by poking his head out of a dark room that was in a hallway behind the counter. "How may I help…" he paused when he saw Castle standing at the door.

Castle came forward and pulled out his hands from his pockets and placed them on the counter. "Yes, Pi. I hope you can help me."

The man was in his mid-twenties with an afro, a small moustache, and a chin that Batman would be jealous of. Overall a person that a parent wouldn't want their daughter or son dating.

He looked over Castle's shoulder to see if Castle had any company. Castle shook his head. "Just me, Pi."

"With you guys, you never know," said Pi.

"I agree. You never know."

"You on assignment?" asked Pi.

"Something different."

"Coonan?"

Castle nodded. "Could use some help."

"I am almost done with this business."

"And that's a lie."

"What do you need, Mr. Castle?"

"Kate Beckett," replied Castle.

"Ah, Ms. Beckett. Quite the memorable customer. Haven't heard that name in a while though."

"That could change. Who was she contacting?"

"You're still in the agency, so in the inside you should know," replied Pi.

"Not the inside."

Pi ran his hand through his hair. "Tricky girl that Beckett. Really good at what she does. Probably your only match."

"Possibly better."

"So what is this about, Mr. Castle?"

"She's ran into a bit of a hiccup. And maybe I could help her out."

"Didn't you two work together in the past?" asked Pi.

"Long time ago. I would like to know where she is."

"And do what exactly?"

"My job."

Pi shook his head. "No way am I helping you kill her."

"What this is about, Pi, is making sure the United States is safe. I thought that was the only thing this was about."

"Haven't seen her in a while."

"What about her contacts?"

"Just tell me this, Rick. You swear on me that you are trying to protect her?" said Pi.

"Would you believe if I swore on you?"

"Your reputation precedes you, Castle. You're a straight shooter and I don't mean as a person who shoots for a living. But you stay honest with me, maybe I help you. Those are my terms. If you don't like them and you don't have shoes that need repair I'll have to ask you to leave. It's that simple."

Castle mulled this over and decided he didn't have a choice. "The agency thinks Kate killed Coonan and another employee."

"That's Grade A bullshit."

"I think she did kill them, Pi. It's not that simple however. Something big is going on and there is a huge stink pile at the very top. I knew Kate. I would trust her with my own life."

"And if she did kill Coonan?" asked Pi.

"Then my task is to get her."

"But you're having doubts?"

"If I didn't then I wouldn't be here," replied Castle.

The two men then got into a staring contest across a countertop which was lined with different kinds of shoes polishes. It was pretty obvious that Pi was trying to make up his mind whether to trust Castle or not. And he didn't blame him. Sincerity in the covert world was a fantasy. When you found it, it was as though someone really had found a gold pot at the end of a rainbow.

"Today might be your lucky day," said Pi.

"Why is that?"

"The world I operate in is very small. Not many too many people in the world with the same profession. We don't have a society, but we know of each other's existence. When one of us needs help, we do each other a favor, hoping that one time the other returns the favor."

"How does that help me?" asked Castle.

"Got a call just a few hours ago from another person that does the same thing I do. Didn't exchange names, but he knew Kate. And maybe he came in contact with her," said Pi while tinkering with one of his tools.

"What did Kate want from your friend?"

"He was very vague. But a document and location."

"What sort of document and where is this location?" asked Castle.

"The guy that called actually wanted my help. But I couldn't. Although I did tell him who could help him."

"No many answers here, Pi."

"There was a name and an address."

"The name?"

"Cole Maddox."

"And who is he?" asked Castle.

"Agency dropout. Small fry, but Kate had taken an interest in him. So much so that she risked contacting my friend."

"Why the interest in Maddox?"

"No idea. But her request was urgent."

"Do you think Maddox could get her the documents?"

"I have no idea. Again, it was a recommendation. And I can't do the same for you. Maddox barely comes out and if he does it's every 3 years or so. When he goes underground, there's no way to get him. Dude would rather live in a forest than get caught."

Castle went into deep thought about Maddox. The logical part of him was calling BS, but it did make sense in some ways. Covert people weren't exactly putting up billboard ads. They didn't work for anyone.

"I guess I have to track Maddox then and find the document in the process."

"Last I knew of his location he was somewhere in Arkansas."

"And how do you know that."

"I couldn't help with the documents. But with names I am very good. So I checked him out," he said putting on his glasses and flipped open his laptop. He hit some keys and a printer came to life under the counter producing a piece of paper. He handed it to Castle who didn't read it and slipped it directly into his pocket.

"It's not an address, but a location and its directions. Just the place where Maddox would hide."

"I am thankful," said Castle.

"If you're lying to me than I don't need your thanks. Kate goes down by your hand, then don't ever come back here."

"So I take it you like her."

"Not in the way you're thinking. Whenever she kills. It's for a reason."

"I hope you're right."

Castle got another cab for the next leg of his journey. The cab stopped a few miles before his destination yet again and he walked the rest like always.

He reached an area that was surrounded by tall trees and vegetation. He ducked under a fence and then walked on a gravel road that split between the tress. The house was almost a two miles trek so he started to run.

It was his hideaway. The agency wasn't aware of it. Only people that knew about it were Alexis and Shaw. Not even Gates knew of its existence.

He reached the front door, opened it which raised the alarm, and he disarmed it dropping the bags that he had been carrying. He went out the rear door and went to the barn that dominated his back yard. Inside it lay a truck that was fully fueled.

He pushed aside the hay that lay in front of the truck, revealing a small square hatch underneath it. He lifted the hatch and hurried down a flight of stairs.

He had not built this room under the barn. The person who had owned it originally had done so back in the sixties, no doubt hoping that a patch of wood and hay would somehow protect him against a Soviet thermonuclear strike. The old days had their moments.

He was finding a place to park his truck when he had stumbled upon the hatch. He had then used it as a room to store things he might need from time to time. And this was one of those times.

He packed a luggage carryon which was used by athletes and placed it in the back of the truck. He slid open the barn door, started the truck, drove out, and then locked the door. He hit the gas and then reached the main road where he sped along cleaning out the fuel injectors in the truck.

He was going on a trip and hoped it might be worth his time. Most of all he hoped to run into Kate Beckett. And if he did, he just hoped he was ready for whatever she threw at him.

* * *

The old woman walked through the security line at the airport. She was tall and slender, her hands covered in age spots and wrinkly skin. Her back was bent and she seemed to be in pain with each step. She had white hair which had been cut into small bangs. She stared at the floor as she passed through the checking area without making any of the agents find anything on her.

She got back her bag and kept walking slowly.

She rode in coach in a window seat. She stared out the window and didn't engage in conversation with the passenger sitting next to her. The flight was smooth, the landing unremarkable.

When they arrived the sun was shining and the sky clear. It was a welcome change from wet and cold D.C.

She deplaned and shuffled to a restroom.

Thirty minutes later she reappeared, younger and straighter, and she no longer shuffled. Her disguise was carefully packed away in her carry-on.

She had one bag to claim at baggage. It was a large roller bag, and inside were two metal boxes, both locked tight.

One held two different sets of ammo.

The other held her gun.

She had lawfully declared it at check-in in her old-lady disguise.

The airline personnel at check-in had merely assumed she was an old woman who liked to protect herself.

There were also a lot of plastic parts and other pieces of metal and springs strewn throughout the nooks and crannies of her luggage.

She picked up her bag and rolled it to a car rental counter. Twenty minutes later Kate Beckett was driving out of the airport in a black SUV.

Her gun was in a holster, fully loaded, and ready to go.

She hoped not to have to use it. Or the other weapon she had brought.

Most of the time those hopes were not realized.

She had perhaps a dozen disguises that her former employers were completely unaware of. She had made certain it stayed that way even when she was working for them. She was not a trusting person—particularly with an employer who would disavow all connection to her if she failed on a mission.

She found the right road and headed west. It was not a populous area. It became even less inhabited with every mile she drove. Following the GPS, she turned off the main road, and ten miles of curves and switchbacks later the GPS failed her. Fortunately she had manually mapped this area previously, and in her mind's eye she followed the turns on her internal compass until she was about a mile from her destination.

She passed the turnoff she would later take and kept going.

It was time to do some necessary search of the area.

She followed the road around and then saw another turnoff, which she took. She rode it up as far as she needed to. She had to engage her four-wheel drive to do so, but she came away satisfied. She retraced her route and took the turnoff she had earlier passed. She drove up the dirt and gravel road for about three-quarters of a mile and then stopped.

This was as far as she would go by car. The rest would be on foot.

She opened her luggage and took out all the pieces of plastic and metal and springs. Some pieces were fairly large, others small.

She laid out all the items in the cargo area of the SUV. Her fingers moving with skill and precision, she assembled the submachine gun in a very short time.

She attached a mag to the rifle and lifted the strap over her head so the weapon rested comfortably in front of her. She covered up the gun with a long leather duster that reached nearly to her ankles. She put on a cowboy hat pulled low, sunglasses, and gloves.

She could be the female version of a gunslinger going to do battle in the street.

She stared ahead of her, studying the topography, then she started walking. Her pace was unhurried, her gaze swiveling in all directions. Up and down. Side to side. And behind her, all the while listening for any sound that would herald a threat.

She covered the quarter mile, cleared a bend in the road, and stopped. She looked right and left and once more behind her.

She moved forward another fifty feet and then squatted down, took in the lay of the land. Potential threat points were numerous and all fully visible to her.

The house was really a cabin. Chopped logs shaved down, their ends tapered, the filling in between solid and new-looking. The door was a sturdy piece of wood. She assumed it would have multiple locks and probably a security system.

No electrical lines out this far. Her gaze swiveled and she saw the diesel generator. But it wasn't on. It was a backup, clearly.

So where was the primary power?

She drifted to her right to get a better look behind the cabin.

That's when she saw where a large field of solar panels was arrayed. That was overkill, she thought. Enough energy to power a place ten times this size. There would be underground lines taking the power to the cabin.

To the left of the cabin and fifty yards back was a barn. Solar probably fed that too.

Totally off the grid. Makes sense.

Kate didn't think there were cows or horses in that barn.

A dusty, late-model four-door Jeep sat in front of the cabin. Local plates. Gun rack in the back with a rifle and scope hanging on it.

She started to move forward, then thought better of it. Keeping behind a tree, she lifted a slender metal object from her pocket, fired it up, and pointed it in front of her at near ground level. The invisible laser lines became visible. Trip field. Alert only? Or maybe booby-trapped.

There could be bombs all over this place, with the owner the only one knowing where they were.

Kate stayed where she was, contemplating how she was going to pierce this perimeter. There were ways; she just had to come up with the right one.

As she watched, the front door of the cabin opened.

Maybe the problem would solve itself.

* * *

It almost took Castle fifteen hours to get to Arkansas where Cole Maddox had called his home. Castle only stopped for gas and to use the bathroom. He ate from a basket he had taken with him from his safe house.

The sun had risen as he pulled to a stop at what he calculated to be five miles from his final destination.

He looked around. He had passed civilization about two hours ago and was officially in no-man's-land. He hadn't even seen another house in a half hour. The terrain was both rocky and lush. The roads—well, there didn't seem to be many of them. And the ones there were had gone from asphalt to gravel and now to dirt.

Castle checked his watch. He had gained one hour by entering the central time zone. He hoped it was worth it. He was tired, but not exhausted.

He rolled down the window and breathed in the crisp air.

He had traveled over mountains and flatlands.

He was back in the mountains.

Pi had said Cole Maddox had worked at the agency. Kate had apparently been interested in a document that Castle assumed Maddox had written. This meant something to Kate. Something important.

And where was Kate? Was she already here?

He looked around again. Lots of places to hide. If the place he was going to was this remote, there was no way he could get to it unseen if he just continued to drive.

So he had to leave his truck behind.

He liked to be on foot better.

A truck was a big target at which to shoot.

Castle parked his vehicle well off the road, changed into camo gear, and also blacked his face. He slung his gear pack over his bag and set off. He had memorized the directions to West's house. He was going to treat this like any other mission.

But unlike every other mission, he didn't have a clear goal when he got to his destination. He didn't know if Maddox would turn out to be a friend or foe. He had no idea if he had just driven into a trap somehow orchestrated by Kate Beckett.

The terrain was rugged, but he traversed it easily. He had trained for years for missions like this. And even at age forty he floated over the rock and through the hilly terrain with the agility of an elite athlete in his prime.

He counted down the miles in his head. As he drew closer to what might be ground zero his grip tightened on his primary weapon, his sniper rifle.

He had two other weapons in his pack, with enough ammo to take on a lot of guns on the other side. The weapons had been chosen for different scenarios.

His rifle was for close-quarters battle against superior numbers. I

His knife was for killing hand-to-hand. He could use it to slice or gut with equal efficiency.

His gun rode in the shoulder holster. He never went anywhere without the weapon. It was like his third arm.

And he had a special type of ordnance in his gear pack. It was his fail-safe.

He reached a clearing and took the opportunity to snag his binoculars from his gear pack and take a good long look around from the vantage point of high ground.

There was not much around here that he could see other than nature. Then he spied it. A chimney poking out from a break in the trees. There was a dirt road full of switchbacks running up to it. He couldn't see the house attached to it.

Castle saw no smoke coming from the chimney, but the temperature wasn't that cold, so someone could still be there without needing to build a fire. And in his mental map that house was his destination, the abode of Cole Maddox.

He kept looking in a wide arc through his optics. He finally set his binoculars down and looked through the scope on his sniper rifle, which was far more powerful than the binoculars.

He wasn't just looking for Maddox or whoever else might be with him. He was looking for Kate. For Castle was now certain of one thing.

Kate was here.

He could just feel it

* * *

 **Quick Note** : This was a long one huh. We are almost there. Next chapter I promise!. I wanted it to be in this one that they met, but a setup was necessary that made sense. Hopefully I make it a scene worth remembering and meets your expectations as well.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

The person of interest stepped out of his cabin.

Cole Maddox was in his early thirties, around six feet tall, and a muscular hundred ninety five pounds. His fingers were long and tough, and his face wasn't different either. He had grown a beard that looked relatively weird as he was mostly clean shaven. He had on military boots, army jeans tucked into them, a camo flannel shirt, and a vest with bullet holsters itched on it.

He took out a remote from his pocket and pressed a button on it which disabled the laser system that surrounded the property. His Jeep was in a spot that intersected with the laser field.

Kate watched closely as Maddox approached his truck, following his every step. She had guessed right that the entire property was laid in traps as she saw Maddox walk in a zig zag manner towards his Jeep.

As he touched the door to his truck Kate shouted, "We need to have a chat, Maddox."

He turned around in an instant with a gun in his hand from seemingly out of nowhere.

The gun in Kate's hand fired instantly hitting the rear door of the Jeep making it dishevel upon impact. The bullets pierced the door ripping apart the inside.

Maddox threw himself to the hood of the Jeep.

"Another step and the next shot is for you," she said. "Put your gun down and I am not going to ask you again."

Maddox held the gun tightly, but moments later dropped it on the gun.

"Turn around slowly, hands over your head, and keep your eyes down as well. If you look up, your face will eat a bullet."

He did what he was told and turned around slowly, put his hands on his head, and eyes on the ground.

"What do you want from me?" he asked shakily.

"Walk over here slowly. Don't trip any bombs."

He looked shocked by what she had said, then walked over slowly making sure not to trip any mines, and then stopped two feet from her.

"Can I look up now?"

"No. Get on the ground, facedown, and spread your arms and legs."

He did what he was told. She was the alpha in this situation.

She walked up to him within a few feet but still behind a cover.

"You should know that there is a sniper with a rifle in the cabin that is aimed at you," said Maddox.

"I don't think so."

"I don't think you can risk it."

"Yes I can. I'm standing behind a tree. And if your 'sniper' didn't show himself after I shot your Jeep, he's too afraid to pull the trigger and not worth worrying about."

"What the hell do you even want and who are you?"

"Who I am does not concern you. But I do want to know something." She took out a cluster of paper and tossed them in the dirt next to him.

"Can I see what these are without a bullet in me?" he asked.

"Just move your arms slowly," she replied.

He slowly moved his right arm and gripped the papers in his hands. He pulled them close to his face and read the first page.

"And?"

"Did you write these?" she asked.

"If I did?"

"Why?"

"Part of my old job."

"Your new job is leading your own militia."

Maddox smirked. "Militia? We are liberty fighters."

"And who are you fighting liberty for?"

"If you need to ask then you don't see the world around you."

Kate frowned. "The big bad government? You live in the middle of nowhere. You have your guns. You've got your own place. You're off the grid. No one's bothering you that I can see. So what's the problem?"

"And they will come for us soon enough. But we will be ready for them."

"The paper you wrote. You believe what it said?"

"Yes. All of it."

"You really think it could happen?" she asked.

"It is very likely. The laziness in our security system is outstanding. The people at D.C. just don't have the guts to admit that. It felt like they wanted the country to be attacked. I got sick of it. That's why I quit."

"So the path you have chosen is righteous and a path to a peaceful world?"

"I never said a peaceful future was the goal. Our having a future is the goal. You lead by force. You kick the shit out of them. You don't just sit around and wait for them to attack you. They think security is solid. Well, my paper showed them how impenetrable it was. It was bullshit."

"So your job was to think of doomsday scenarios?" she asked.

"The agency was majority of do nothings all day. Most of the others did the same old crap. Nothing outside the box. They were worried about ruffling feathers. Not me. You give me a job, I do it. I don't give a shit about consequences," replied Maddox huffing the dirt when he spoke.

"Who did the paper go to?" asked Kate.

"That information is classified."

"Isn't the big government bad in your eyes?"

"Yes, but right now you are the bad one. And if you think you're getting out of here alive then think again."

"So I am guessing you're the law around these parts. Liberty fighters too I suppose?"

"And you would be right. Why do you think I moved here?"

"Where did the papers go?" she asked again.

"If I don't tell you will you torture me then?"

"I don't have time to torture you. Although if I did then you would find it unforgettable. If you don't talk then I'll just shoot you."

"Cold blooded bitch," said Maddox. "You're a woman."

"And that should make you fear me even more."

Maddox laughed. "You have a high regard for your gender, don't you?"

"You were a desk jockey your whole career. You never fired a shot and never had a shot fired at you. The closest you ever got to danger was watching the video feed from a thousand miles away. Did that make you feel like a real man instead of the courage less punk you really are?"

That struck a nerve.

He quickly jumped up, But Kate was quicker. She shot her gun and the round zipped past his right ear, close enough that bits of the hard dirt kicked up and struck his ear, which started bleeding.

He screamed in agony. "You shot me! You stupid bitch!"

"I didn't. I hit the dirt instead. Could have been you easily. Now spread your legs."

"What? Why?"

"Spread your legs."

"No! Why?"

"Do it. Now. I won't aim for the dirt next time."

Maddox quickly spread his legs.

She moved behind him and lined up her shot with her gun.

"What are you doing? STOP!" he cried out incredulously.

"Which testicle do you want to keep? But I have to tell you, at this angle, there's no guarantee I won't nail both of them with the one shot."

Maddox pulled his legs together.

"Oh, you want a bullet in your ass then?"

"Why are you doing this?" he screamed.

"I asked for a name. And you didn't give me one."

"I didn't submit it to a particular person!"

"Then who did you give it to?" she asked.

"Why does that even matter?"

"Because some people took your words seriously and might attempt it."

"Seriously?"

"Don't be too proud. It's too insane of a plan to actually work. Now the name. I won't ask again."

"It was a code name," he replied.

"That's bullshit."

"I swear on my mother's grave."

"Why submit unofficially to a code name? And your answer better make sense or you're going to need surgery to reshape your behind."

"That person came to me."

"Who?"

"Electronically, I mean. The person had somehow found out about my paper."

"When did all of this occur?"

"Two years ago I think," he replied. "You really think they are going to do it?"

"Tell me the code name."

He remained silent.

"Seconds, Maddox. That's all you have."

"Jackie the Westie," he shouted.

"And why did you give it to that person?" she asked calmly.

"The signature that he had was allowed top secret access and the very highest security clearance. Way above my pay grade. He wanted to test what I could come up with. He asked me to write what I could come up with. He told me that my paper was revolutionary and people at the top were talking about it as well."

It disgusted Kate to see how animated he suddenly was in talking about his "accomplishments."

"How did the person know that if no one else had read the paper?"

Maddox hesitated but then said, "I may have had a bit to drink and talked about it at the bar I used to go to."

"You really are an idiot. No wonder they kicked you out."

"I would have quit anyway," he snapped.

"And retire in the middle of nowhere and live alone in a cabin. Great choice."

"This is real America, bitch!"

"The paper you wrote was quite specific."

"I codenamed it 'Linchpin'. Country by country, leader by leader, step by step. It was all in the timing. It was a perfect jigsaw puzzle. I spent two years figuring it out. Every contingency. Everything that could go wrong. Everything was accounted for."

"You didn't count for one thing."

"Not possible," he replied.

"You didn't account for me."

She then heard some noises approaching from a distance that put a smile on Maddox's face.

"Your times up, little lady."

"Not a lady and definitely not little either."

She kicked him hard on his face that knocked him out cold. She grabbed the papers and then stuffed them back into her jacket pocket.

Kate retraced Maddox's safe path to the cabin and took a look on the inside. There were stacks of weapons, ammo, grenades, packs of C-4, chemicals, and other small explosives. Through a window looking out on the back porch she saw twenty-gallon drums of what looked to be gasoline. She doubted they were for power or to grow crops. She figured the barn was probably full of those containers as well.

She also glimpsed detailed plans of attack on major cities in the United States. These people were domestic terrorists of the foulest kind. She grabbed anything that looked like it might be important, including a USB stick plugged into his laptop, and stuffed them in her pockets.

She also took a couple grenades. A "lady" could never have too many grenades.

She ran back out, raced over to his truck, quickly opened the rear door, and pulled out the scoped rifle and a box of ammo which was in the glove box.

She hustled back to her SUV, jumped in, and peeled out. But before she got to the main road, she realized it was too late. When she saw what was coming at her, she had no option other than turning around and heading back toward the cabin.

It looked like a few precious seconds were going to prove fatal for Kate's life.

* * *

Kate accelerated hard and the SUV roared up the twisting gravel drive. In her mind she was planning her attack. When outnumbered, retreat wasn't always an option. Superior forces rarely expected an outgunned opponent to charge at them.

Kate wasn't going to exactly do that. She was going for a modified version of an all-out assault.

She checked the rearview mirror and gauged the distance between her and the massive Jeep chasing her. It was full of what she presumed were maniacs posing as liberty fighters, and she knew they were heavily armed as well.

Well, she would find out exactly how heavily armed they were in a few seconds. And how well they handled their weapons. She just hoped the feint she was planning worked.

She gained the separation she needed, lowered the window halfway, and drifted the SUV to a stop, leaving it blocking the road. She grabbed the rifle, rested the barrel on top of the half-lowered window, took aim, and shot out the front tires on the Jeep. For good measure she put a round through the front bonnet and steam started to pour out which made the Jeep ground to a halt.

The doors opened and men jumped out carrying a variety of weapons.

Pistols and small guns did not concern her. They didn't have the range to hurt her.

They opened fire but nothing came close to her.

She shot three times and three of the shooters fell, all with nonfatal wounds, which was intentional on her part. She just wanted them out of the action. And there was a sense of fairness as well. She didn't have to kill them and so she let them live but in no condition to fight.

She shifted her attention to another man who jumped out on the left side of the Jeep. He was holding a scoped rifle.

That could definitely reach her. So Kate put him down with one shot to the forehead. He fell backward and the rifle spun out of his dead hands. No one went to retrieve it.

The men, probably wondering what the hell they had gotten themselves into, retreated to the back of the Jeep, using the big vehicle as a shield.

But through her scope Kate could see some of them pulling cell phones out.

They were calling in reinforcements.

Ironically, that was what she wanted. It would give her the time to proceed with part two of her plan. She gunned the engine and headed toward the cabin.

A few moments later she skidded to a stop a good distance from the cabin behind a stand of trees and leapt out. She pulled the grenades from her pocket, ran toward the cabin, pulled the pins, and threw the grenades through the structure's front window.

She was turning back to run to the SUV when Cole Maddox ran into her full speed.

Kate managed to keep her feet, but he had one hand wrapped around her throat. He assumed that with his superior size and strength the battle was over.

Maddox could not have been more wrong.

She twisted her body to the left, breaking his grip around her throat. At the same time she brought her knee up between his legs, with overwhelming results. Maddox's face turned white, his knees bent, and he grabbed his privates. She slammed her right elbow into his left temple. He screamed, panted, and started to fall away from her. But his foot accidentally bent her leg and Kate fell too, him on top of her.

Before they hit the dirt the grenades detonated. And so did every other explosive and flammable material in the cabin. The roof blew twenty feet in the air and pieces of wood, metal, and glass became deadly shrapnel flying out in all directions at supersonic speed.

Kate felt the impact of some of this debris collide with Maddox's body. Hundreds of dull thuds, actually. His face turned white, then gray, and then blood started to pour from his mouth and nose.

Ironically, he had become her shield.

Kate rolled to her right, throwing the now dead man off her. She staggered up and looked at the flames and thick plumes of dark smoke rising up into the sky. She looked down at her clothes. The duster was shredded and covered in Maddox's blood. Kate had not escaped unscathed either. She had cuts on her face and hands, and there was a dull pain in her right leg from where Maddox had fallen on her. But she was alive.

She looked at the barn. The flames would reach that structure very soon. She didn't want to be around to witness or feel that flame ball.

She jumped into the SUV, backed up, and gunned it.

She heard vehicles racing up the road. The reinforcements had come. And with the explosion they would concentrate all their attention on the cabin.

That had been her intent when she had blown it up.

She knew exactly where she was headed next. When you built a cabin in the middle of nowhere and filled it with explosives and plans of mass destruction, you would never be content with simply one road in and out. If the authorities came, you had to have another form of escape.

And Kate, who had been looking for just such a route, had spied it on the way in when she had done her initial search.

A logging road to the east. That was her exit. Unfortunately, two vehicles were blocking her path out. Along with a dozen men with enough firepower to tangle on equal footing with a fully equipped Army squad. They had outflanked her.

So this was it.

Kate sat in her SUV and stared down at the men. They were arrayed in defensive positions that could quickly be turned into offensive scenarios. They were dressed in makeshift uniforms, camo pants, and camo shirts. Most were large, bench-press-swollen chests, and shoulders and bulging guts.

They were pointing sniper rifles, shotguns, and pistols at her. When they opened fire, which they looked prepared to do right now, the first hail of bullets would wipe her out.

This was not how Kate had imagined dying. Not at the hands of these men who looked like they were barely one evolutionary step removed from cavemen.

In the distance there was an explosion. That must have been the barn going up, she thought. She fingered her pistol. She could hit the gas and make a run at them, but the odds of her breaking through the blockade were not good. A quick calculation in her head put her survival rate at less than five percent.

Then she heard vehicles moving in behind her. She glanced at the rearview mirror and saw two more trucks and ten more 'liberty fighters' slide in less than a hundred yards behind her.

Now she was outgunned and outflanked.

 _Survival chance: 0%_

She pulled out her gun and stepped out from the truck. She had decided she was not going down without a fight. They would never be able to say that about her.

The men took careful aim and their fingers went to their triggers. They would have her dead center in a lethal field of fire.

She gave a small shake of the head, and even managed a smile.

" _Non andartene docile in quella buona notte. Rabbia, rabbia contro il morire della luce_ ," she whispered to herself in Italian. (Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light).

"YOU ALL ARE GOING TO HELL WITH ME, BITCHES!" she shouted at the militiamen as she raised her gun for what would certainly be the last time.

BOOM.

That's when the first explosion hit.

* * *

Caught off guard, Kate instinctively ducked and rolled under the truck. Her first thought was that one of the idiot militia guys had dropped a grenade and blown himself up.

When she looked back it seemed that this was indeed the case. The trucks on her forward flank were on fire, the men there dead, dazed, or scattered.

But then from the corner of her eye she saw a shot originate from a ridge to her left. It impacted with the side of one of the trucks on her rear flank. Its fuel tank ignited and lifted the two-ton truck three feet into the air, scattering lethal bits of metal in all directions.

Seven of the men there were shot where they stood and dropped, never to fight again. Then the gunfire opened up. But they weren't firing at her. They were firing up at a hill.

Kate looked out from under the truck. The sunlight was in her eyes, but she slid to the right and the glare vanished. She grasped her binoculars from her pocket, clapped them to her eyes, and then zoomed in the lenses.

She saw the muzzle of a sniper rifle. And not just any sniper rifle. She had one just like it. A customized job that only had a few owners.

The gun fired once, twice, three times.

Kate looked back and saw four men drop to the dirt, dead.

She stared back up the ridge. The man was moving so fast and so low to the ground that he resembled a leopard going after prey.

Her jaw sagged.

It was Richard Castle.

She marveled at his ability to maneuver so fluidly through the rough terrain. Then she wondered why he was giving up the high ground.

She stopped wondering with what he did next.

He fired a round into the fuel tank of the second truck on her rear flank. He must have been chambering flammable rounds, because this truck exploded too. Four more men died and the survivors ran for it, disappearing down the road in full retreat.

Castle stopped, pivoted, and then rapid-fired with his sniper rifle at the remaining men on the forward flank.

Acquire a target and fire. Acquire a target and fire. It was like taking breaths, as natural and seamless as could be. Kate counted off each shot and with each round fired, a man fell.

Castle didn't miss even once. It was a man against children.

They took cover and fired back. But even though he was outgunned it was like Castle had the superior firepower. While the militia shot wildly, their adrenaline and fear making it unlikely they would hit anything, Castle aimed and fired with such calm efficiency that it was like he was playing a video game and could hit reset anytime he wanted.

After another minute of this slaughter the remaining militia on the forward flank were in full-scale retreat.

That left just the two of them.

Kate looked back at Castle. He stood on a small hill staring down at her.

She came out from under the truck and held her pistol loosely at her side.

He had dropped his rifle. His gun was in his right hand. He held it loosely too.

Kate looked at the burning carnage and the dead bodies and then back at Castle.

"I guess a thanks is in order."

Castle took a few more steps forward and then stopped. He was nearly at level ground, fifty yards from her.

They both knew the same thing.

Twenty more yards of closure and their guns would easily be in kill range.

"You could have just let them kill me," she said. "More than fifteen to one, inevitable. Keep your hands clean."

"Wasn't an option." Castle glanced at one of the dead men. "Who are they?"

"Militiamen. And bad ones apparently."

He nodded. "Did you kill Josh and Coonan?"

Kate drew a few yards closer and stopped. She glanced at Castle's hands. They hadn't moved. But it would only take a second for that to change and the gun to fire.

"How did you know to come here?" she asked.

"Friend of a friend. Didn't know if you'd be here or not. I was looking for Maddox."

"Why?"

"Because you were looking for him."

Kate said nothing. She just stared at his gun hand.

"You don't have to send any more mysterious texts, Kate. I'm here. So tell me what the hell is going on."

"It's complicated, Rick."

"Then let's start out simple. Did you kill them?"

Castle walked forward another five yards. They were now right on the cusp

Neither of them was holding their guns loosely now. The muscles in their trigger hands were flexed tight. But the fingers were still on the trigger guards.

"You haven't changed much, Rick." She took in his appearance and wanted to instinctually run her hand through his hair. He was still the same old Castle.

"Apparently you have," said Castle. "Cole Maddox? Where is he? Is he dead? Did I kill him?"

She shook her head. "None of us did. But he's dead."

"What do you mean?"

"He did it himself. It's dangerous to fill your house with explosives. He learned that the hard way."

"Why did you track Maddox?"

"He had something I needed."

"A document?" asked Castle.

Her face flashed concern. "How did you know about that?"

"Did you get it?"

"I already had the document and I've read it. I wanted more info, but I didn't get it."

"So all this was a waste?" he said.

They both glanced sideways. In the far distance a sound could be heard. Sirens. Even in the middle of nowhere explosions and gunfire drew the police eventually.

She looked back at him. "I know what you've been tasked to do," she said.

"And I'm giving you a chance to explain."

"So explanation before execution?"

"That depends solely on the explanation."

The sirens were drawing closer.

He added, "And we're running out of time."

"I'm not a traitor."

"That's good to know. Now prove it."

"I don't have proof. Not yet."

Their fingers slipped near their respective triggers. They each took two steps forward. It was synchronized but not choreographed. They were now squarely in their guns kill zones.

Caste frowned. "You're going to have to do better than that. I've got a dead number two and another agency on my ass. So talk to me. Now."

The sirens sounded almost on top of them.

"Coonan and Josh were the traitors."

"How?"

"They killed somebody. Somebody that meant a lot to me."

"Why?" asked Castle.

"Because he was going to expose their plot."

"Which was?"

The sirens were deafening now. It seemed like every cop in the state were coming their way.

"I don't have time to explain now."

"I'm not sure you have a choice, Kate."

"What does it matter? You have your orders, Castle."

"I don't always follow them. Just like you."

"You almost always follow them."

"You sent me the texts. You said everything you did has a reason. I just had to open the lock. So tell me what you meant! But there are no guarantees, Kate. None. Not even if your explanation makes sense. That's just the way it has to be."

They were no longer looking at each other. Their gazes were on each other's hands. Hands with guns were what killed, while eyes were just points of deception; it was a lesson learned too late for the fool who stopped looking at the fingers.

"How do I know I can trust you?" she said. "Sending you texts is one thing. But it troubles me greatly that you were able to find me and this place so fast." She glanced up at him, daring to take her gaze off his gun hand. "It makes me think you had help. Agency help. So it comes back down to, how do I know I can trust you?"

"You can't know that, not for sure. Just like I don't know if I can trust you."

"I'm not sure that gets us anywhere, Rick."

He saw her gun hand tighten just a bit.

"It doesn't have to go down like this, Kate."

"You'd think, wouldn't you? But it probably will go down just like this."

"Maddox was an analyst who got canned. What's so important about him?" There was more urgency in Castle's voice, because the sirens were growing so close that he was afraid they would have to engage in a gun battle with the cops just to escape. "And talk fast."

She said, "He's a bad guy but a good writer."

"What exactly did he write? The document?"

"The end of the world," she replied.

They could now hear the screech of tires in addition to the sirens.

"The end of the world? Elaborate."

"Not enough time, Rick. You'll just have to trust me."

"That's asking a lot. Too much."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Then why the texts?"

She started to say something but then stopped. "I guess I didn't want you to think that I was a traitor." She paused, but only for a second. "I'm sorry, Rick."

Before he could answer Kate fired.

Not at Castle, but at one of the militiamen, who wasn't quite dead yet and was about to shoot at them. He dropped back to the ground for good with one of her rounds in his head.

When Kate turned back Castle had his pistol aimed at her head, with both hands wrapped around the guns butt. His finger hovered over the trigger. She had no chance now. Her pistol dangled uselessly at her side.

The sirens were screaming in their ears now.

"Close your eyes, Kate."

"I'd prefer to keep them open."

"I said close your eyes. I won't ask again."

Kate slowly closed her eyes. She braced herself for the impact of the round. Castle would only need one shot. She could count on him for that. Her death would be instant. But she still wondered how it would feel.

Seconds went by, but there was no shot.

Instead she felt a body surround her in an embrace. He was doing the same thing the last time they had worked together. Like that time he had saved her life yet again. And she felt the same way as she did then despite the chaos around her. Castle hugging her made her feel needed, wanted, and even loved. Things that she hadn't felt in a very long time. She rested her forehead on his shoulders and felt the weight of the world suddenly lifted amidst the chaos. It made her feel the loneliness that had inhibited her world and how the real world was empty. Castle whispered something in her ear that she barely heard as the sirens had gotten even louder. 'Always…be there…". She couldn't care less. She felt safe with him. And she wondered if he felt the same.

"Be safe okay," he whispered.

She didn't move a muscle.

She finally opened her eyes.

Richard Castle was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content** **Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

Kate snapped out of her haze and quickly got back into her truck, slammed the gas, and made her way back to the main road. A route that took her away from the sirens and all the chaos.

She finally hit the main road, smashed down the gas pedal, and her SUV teared down the road. Soon she was thirty miles away and could no longer see the smoke plume above the tree line before she slowed the vehicle to under a hundred miles per hour.

She pulled off the road, disassembled her weapons, put them away in her bag, and drove back toward the airport. Along the way she slipped into a car wash and got most of the dirt off the SUV, although there were some scrapes and dents that hadn't been there before. She drove on and reached the airport.

When she returned the rental SUV back the employee didn't even check the vehicle. He noted her gas and mileage and printed out her receipt.

"That was quick," he said.

"Just a fast meeting."

"Well, I hope you had a great time here. We are known for our tranquil nature, slower pace, and the quietness of nature."

"I think you are going to have a different opinion by tomorrow," said Kate as she walked toward the bus that would take her to the terminal.

She changed back into her old woman's disguise in the restroom and boarded the next flight to Virginia.

When they were wheels up and the sun was flaring down on the landscape, Kate put her seat back, closed her eyes, and thought about what she had learned.

Someone with top-secret clearance, at least five levels above Cole Maddox, had read that paper.

That was two years ago. The person's level and clearances could have changed. In fact, they most certainly had changed. The person would be higher-placed now. That was problematic to say the least.

 _Had it been Coonan?_ Two years ago he would have been easily at least five levels above someone like Cole Maddox, maybe even more.

But that was assuming Maddox had told her the truth. She had no way to verify that there was even someone with the code name _Jackie the Westie_.

But she knew the paper existed. She knew the plan set forth in that paper was being executed. She knew some of the people who were trying to execute it.

She had killed two of them and tried to kill a third.

 _But I don't know all of them._

And if she didn't know all of them there was no way she could truly stop it.

She looked out the window.

An hour later, as they flew east, it was dark. And in that vast blackness all Kate could see was bleakness.

She had gone all that way, nearly been killed, and really had nothing to show for it. But she did, actually. She turned her mind to what was really important about this trip.

It was the man.

She still couldn't quite comprehend what had happened out there. The killing that had taken place was, for her, routine. Dead bodies, explosions, choas. That was her world. But this was something different.

She closed her eyes and the image of Rick Castle instantly appeared. He was pointing his gun at her head. He was telling her to close her eyes so he wouldn't have to face her for the kill shot.

But he hadn't fired. He had let her live.

He had let her escape.

She had been surprised by this. No, she had been stunned by this.

Exactly what she had been surprised by was an emotion she had never encountered in her work.

Mercy.

 _And love?_

Rick Castle, the most accomplished assassin of his generation, had shown her mercy.

When she had seen Castle shooting the militia, she had thought it just possible that he would become her ally. That they would finish this together. That had been a crazy thought. This was her fight. Not his.

And yet he had let her live. And escape.

His mission would have been complete. The agency would have lauded his performance. Maybe he would have been promoted out of fieldwork, or been given more time off. He would have bagged their number one problem, in record time.

And he had just let her walk away.

She had always admired Castle. He was the peaceful, cool professional who did his work and never talked about a single achievement. And yet she saw an infinite unhappiness in the man, which she could never quite get her arms around. She saw that very same emotional state in herself.

They were a lot alike, she and Castle.

And he had let her live.

Killers didn't do that. Killers never did that. Kate wasn't sure, if the positions were reversed, that she would have let Rick walk away.

 _I probably would have shot him._

And maybe she had lied to Castle. About not wanting his help. She actually did want his assistance, because it had finally struck her that she couldn't possibly accomplish this alone. So she had failed.

And now something happened that had not happened to Kate Beckett since she was a young girl.

Tears slid from her eyes and down her cheeks.

She closed her eyes again. And didn't open them until the plane touched down.

When she did open them, she still couldn't see anything very clearly

* * *

Almost four hundred miles as Castle drove the distance without stopping. He headed directly west, the way to his next location. But finally, even his stamina must come down and he had to stop because he could no longer see the road.

He checked into a motel right off the highway, paid for his room in cash, and slept for seventeen straight hours to make up for a week of barely being able to sleep at all.

It might have been the longest sleep he had in years.

When he woke up it was dark again. The day was almost over and he had almost lost all of it.

But just a day before he would have easily lost his whole life.

He found a diner and greedily ate two meals in one. He couldn't seem to get enough to eat or drink. When he set his coffee cup down for the last time and rose from the table he felt his energy returning.

He sat in his truck in the parking lot, staring at the speedometer.

He had Kate in front of him. One trigger pull and it would have been over. Kate is dead. His mission accomplished. All worries gone.

His finger had actually slipped to the trigger. Every other time in his entire professional life when his finger had gone to that point he had fired.

Every single time.

Except yesterday.

Katherine Beckett had become his first.

He had told her to close her eyes. When he had said that, he was fully committed to pull the trigger.

But he had instead hugged her.

For a reason he still doesn't know.

And then he had walked away.

He could have let someone else figure out the mystery. He was just a sniper. And all he had to do was pull the trigger.

But he didn't.

Only one other time in his career had he not pulled the trigger. But at that time it had been the right decision.

And this was his second time. He didn't know whether he had made the right decision.

Kate looked different. Not totally, just faintly. But even that was enough. Most people were terrible observers. And even those good at observing were not very skillful at it. Kate had done just enough to not stand out. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough.

He would have done the same in his position.

And by not pulling the trigger he was in her position now. Maybe.

He drove back to the motel, went to his room, took off his clothes, and stood in the shower, letting the water wash off the dirt on his body.

But the water couldn't get to his brain, where it felt like muck a foot deep had gathered, dulling his senses, obstructing his ability to think clearly.

He dried off and dressed. He leaned against the wall and slammed both hands into it so hard he felt the drywall snap. He dropped seventy dollars on the bed to repair the wall and grabbed his bag.

He had a long drive ahead of him. He had better get to it.

He switched on the radio when he reached the interstate highway. The news was full of it. A massacre on a lonely hill in the middle of nowhere, Arkansas. No one was talking, but apparently rival militias had had a go at each other. A cabin had been blown up. Trucks too. Men lay dead.

One of them was identified as Cole Maddox, a former intelligence analyst in D.C. When and why he had headed to Arkansas and taken up his new life of guns and bombs was as yet unknown. There were intimations that folks from D.C. were heading to the site now to begin an investigation.

Castle looked up, almost expecting to see a government jet flying towards the crime scene.

As the news went off in other directions, Castle thought more about what Kate had told him.

Maddox had written the end of the world. What the hell did that even mean?

Maddox had worked at the agency as an analyst. That could cover a lot of bases. Most analysts whom Castle had encountered spent their days scouring every day events. But there were some who didn't.

Castle had heard that the agency had papers written on lots of different scenarios. They took into account the different political regimes. These papers would almost all end up on the shredder pile, largely forgotten. But Maddox's hadn't ended up on that pile. There could be someone was taking it seriously.

Writing the apocalypse.

Kate had risked a lot to come out here. If Castle hadn't been there too she would be dead. Kate was a top tier killer with few to match her. But she had been outgunned more than twenty to one. Even the best trained person could not survive that.

If she knew that Maddox had written the apocalypse, this meant she had either read the paper or knew of its contents. And she had the document too. So she probably hadn't come out here to ask Maddox about it. Castle doubted she cared what his motivation or reason was for doing it.

 _So what now?_

He drove on for god knows how many miles before the answer hit him.

She wanted to know who the paper went to.

If it hadn't gone through higher ups, then it could have gone to someone who wasn't official. That must have been what Kate wanted. The name of the person or persons who had seen the apocalypse paper.

More miles went by. Castle stopped for gas and another meal. He sat at the counter, his attention focused on the food in front of him, but his mind racing well beyond the walls of this diner.

There was her shot list.

Josh first. Coonan next. She had said they were traitors.

She also said there were others.

But she had killed Josh and Coonan and then paid a visit to Cole Maddox. So she had to know they were part of the paper before she'd confronted Maddox.

That could only mean one thing.

Castle had lifted the glass of strawberry shake to his lips but then slowly set it down without taking a sip.

There had to be someone else out there. Maybe more than one who knew about the paper? Someone out there who was perhaps taking guidance from the paper and unknown to Kate.

She was step by step killing off these conspirators, that was how Castle naturally started to think of them, but her list was incomplete.

So many more questions stormed him now, the top of which was why and how Kate had become involved in all this. What was the catalyst that had provoked her to risk everything to do what she was doing?

He had looked the woman in the eyes. He had come away with a definite conclusion.

This was not simply another mission. This was personal.

And if Castle was right about that, there had to be a reason. No, there had to be a person involved who made it personal for her. She said they had killed someone who meant a lot to her. And he or she had been killed because they were going to expose the plot.

Castle had lots of questions and no answers. And it was getting frustrating now.

* * *

Children were running around without care. Balloons swaying in the air with all the colors of the rainbow. And presents that cost too much.

Judge Vulcan Simmons looked around the room and smiled at the tricks of the elementary school–age kids in the large ballroom where the birthday party was taking place. Simmons had married later in life, and his youngest child was a guest here at the home of a well-known lobbyist who made his money by selling whatever needed selling in Congress.

Simmon's wife, nearly twenty years younger, was not in attendance. A spa trip to Malibu with her girlfriends had taken priority over her son's friend's party. Yet Simmon's was happy to fill in. It gave him certain opportunities.

He scanned the room once more and nodded his head.

The man walked briskly toward him.

He was taller than Simmons, running to fat, and his hair was receding rapidly. And though it was a party, he wasn't smiling. He looked, in fact, like he was going to be sick.

"Raglan?" said Simmon's, holding out his hand, which the other man quickly shook. His skin was clammy.

Congressman John Raglan said, "We need to talk."

Simmon's smiled and indicated a large piñata hanging from the ceiling in one corner of the room. "I don't want to be here when they start attacking that thing. Shall we take a walk outside? The garden is very impressive."

The two men went out the doors and started strolling through the intricate gardens that covered the better part of four acres. There was a pool, a guesthouse, an outdoor stone porch, a reflecting pond, benches and gates and side gardens, and a potting shed. Both men were wealthy and thus felt right at home in such a lavish setting.

When they were well away from the house in an isolated stretch of the property, they stopped walking.

Simmons said, "How're things in Congress?"

"That's not what I want to talk about and you know it."

"I do know, John. I'm just trying to keep your nerves from running away with you. Poker faces are important."

"And you're not concerned? I understand she nearly got you," said Raglan.

"We were prepared. The only problem was she was more nimble than we thought."

"You know Cole Maddox is dead."

"Neither significant nor relevant," replied Simmons.

"Beckett?"

"Again, neither significant nor relevant."

"I think she is very significant and relevant. Josh, Coonan, you? She has a list. How?" he demanded.

"It's obvious," said Raglan. "I trusted Mike Royce when I shouldn't have. I thought he was one of us. He wasn't. He fooled me and it cost us."

"So he told Kate?"

Simmons nodded, looking thoughtful. "That seems to be the case. Too bad we didn't kill him sooner."

"Why? What's the connection between Royce and Kate?"

"I don't know," replied Raglan. "But there must have been one. He was with the NYPD at one point and had good connections. I tried to find what those were after we learned he was spying on us instead of working with us. But a lot of it is classified. I couldn't push too hard without raising suspicions."

"Then we're all compromised. I'm probably on that list. He knew about me."

"Yes, you very well could be on the list."

"Kate got to Coonan. He was the number two, for God's sake. What chance do I have?"

"A very good chance. We almost got her, Raglan. She has to know the targets are hardened by now. She'll be on the defensive. She'll have to pull back."

"If she killed Maddox, she's hardly on the defensive," countered Raglan.

"Maddox wasn't really a hardened target. And we still don't know all the facts. If she did kill him she went there to gain more information."

"And if he gave it to her?"

"He had none to give. She was grasping at straws. That shows how weakened her position is."

"Someone had to tell her about Maddox."

"We're looking into that. But I don't see it as especially important. We have bigger fish to fry."

"Maddox went psycho liberty fighter. I would hardly call that not hardened. He had guns and bombs and a bunch of men as crazy as he was. And she still killed him."

"I never said she wasn't capable or dangerous. She is."

"So she could get to me."

"She could get to me too. But we have to play the odds, Raglans. And the odds are with us. But at the same time, when we entered into this 'paper' and we knew it came with risks. You don't set out to do something on this grand a scale without risks."

"What if she knows everything?"

"She doesn't. If she did there are other networks she could have pursued. She knows who is involved. She may know generally what we want to do. She doesn't know the specific target. I would know if she did, trust me."

Raglan passed a hand over his forehead, which was dropping off sweat though the day was cool. "It didn't seem as risky when we were planning it."

"Planning something never seems risky. It's in the execution where all the risk comes."

"And that's what Kate has been doing, executing people."

"That's what she does. And she's good at it."

"How do you know so much about it?"

"I wasn't always a judge, Raglan."

"Intelligence?"

"Not something I can talk about."

"How did you end up on the bench?"

"A law degree and friends in high places. And it allows me great cover and latitude for other accomplishments. But I know what I'm talking about. We'll get through this. Don't for a second think that I'm not counterpunching against Kate. She's good, but she's alone. She can't match our resources."

"She's still out there. She's still alive."

"For now." Simmon's looked toward the house. "I think they must be getting close to cake and ice cream. We should probably head back. Don't want to disappoint the kiddies."

As the two men walked back to the house, Vulcan Simmons thought about the next move on the game board.

He had not been entirely honest with his nervous congressman

Kate was a force to be reckoned with; that was certain.

But he had bigger problems.

The death's of Josh's and Coonan's didn't bother him so much. Now that the plan was being executed, it was to his advantage that main players started dropping. If the plan went crooked it was always fellow conspirator who turned and brought you down.

Coonan probably would have held up, but he also had a lot to lose.

Josh was a weak link. He was a necessary part of the operation on the ground, but he came up short when real pressure was applied. He would have turned on them. If Kate hadn't killed him Simmon's would have.

When they were back at the party, Simmon's glanced sideways at Raglan as the nine-year-old birthday boy blew out his candles.

Raglan was another weak link.

Simmon's should have known better than to enlist a congressman, but Raglan had his value—his seat at a committee was of particular use to Simmon's. Now that value had dried up and Raglan's importance had declined similarly.

And there was one other person on board.

He was not a weak link.

Simmon's, in fact, had to take precautions against this person arriving at the decision that he himself was a burden.

That was his bigger problem. If he was deemed to be a weak link by this partner, then his life was in grave danger. More danger, in fact, than having Kate on his trail.

Simmon's left the house with his son in tow. He watched Raglan get into a Town Car with his son. The driver looked capable and was no doubt armed.

But there was only one of him.

Right before Raglan climbed into the car he stopped and looked back at Simmon's.

The judge smiled and waved.

Raglan waved back and then got into the car.

Simmon's climbed into his Porsche sedan. He had no guards with him. But he had his son. And from what he knew of Kate Beckett, she wouldn't kill him in front of his boy. That moral compass of hers was his best protection.

Now if he could think of a way to glue his child to him, he'd be fine.

Lacking that, he had to find Kate and kill her as quickly as possible.

And he thought he had a way to do just that.

And that plan involved a man named Rick Castle.

* * *

Castle pulled over next to the curb that was right across the school and then waited.

He had returned to the D.C. area, put his truck back in the barn at his hidden house, and then took a cab to the mall where he had parked his car.

He hadn't heard from William Bracken ever since their impromptu breakfast at a diner.

He hadn't heard from anyone since he'd left the diner.

And that wasn't a good thing.

But he hadn't been arrested. He took that as a positive sign.

He sat up straight when Alexis came out of the school building and walked to the bus stop. He sat lower in his car and watched her.

She was dressed in her typical skinny jeans and slightly over-sized hoodie and converse's and carried the larger than her weight sized backpack. She tucked her long hair behind her ears and stared around.

She wasn't listening to her music on her phone.

She wasn't texting.

She was being observant.

 _That's good,_ thought Castle. _Especially now, Alexis_.

The bus came and she got on. When it pulled off Castle followed. He followed all the way until the bus stopped and Alexis got off. Then he watched her make it safely into her home. When she walked inside and the door clicked behind her Castle drove away.

He knew he couldn't do this every day. But right now he just wanted to keep Alexis safe. He just wanted to be accomplishing something positive.

He stared down at his phone and decided to just do it. He hit his speed dial.

Two rings later she answered.

"Unbelievable," said Jordan Shaw. "Did you dial the wrong number?"

He ignored her sarcasm. "You have time to meet?"

"Why?"

"Just to talk."

"You never want to just talk, Castle."

"Today I do. If you don't have time, no worries."

"I can make eight o'clock, not before."

They decided on a place to meet and Castle put away his phone.

He had time to do something and he decided to take full advantage of it. He made another phone call and arranged to meet with the woman.

He really didn't know what to expect, but he felt it was the only thing that wouldn't end in a fight. And to the degree that he trusted anyone, he trusted this person.

Twenty minutes later he was sitting across from Gates.

"I heard you gave Bracken a traffic stop," said Gates

"Is that the hot scoop today?"

"Well, tell me if it's true?"

"I needed some answers."

"Did you get them?"

"No, that's why I'm here."

"All of it is above my pay grade, Castle."

"Not an excuse."

Gates fiddled with her collar and didn't make eye contact.

Castle said, "Are we under surveillance?"

"Probably."

"Let's leave then."

"Another diner? I heard about that. It's agency history now," said Gates, and she wasn't smiling.

"Let's make it a Starbucks."

Fifteen minutes later they walked into the Starbucks, ordered, got their coffees from the barista, and sat down at a table outside that was well away from all the other coffee drinkers. The weather outside looked rough but it didn't seem like it would rain again.

They sipped their coffees and Gates folded her arms placing her elbows on the table. To Castle she looked like a banker that had taken a coffee break. She didn't seem like a woman who made decisions that dealt with the livelihood of many people. A person who dealt with issues of national security as readily as other people made choices for lunch.

 _Ah, the irony,_ he thought. He wasn't the one who decided which person lives or dies. But he actually pull the trigger.

Castle and Gates spent a silent minute looking around at people getting into and out of cars. Going into shops. Coming out with bags. Holding their kids' hands.

Gates caught Castle's eye.

"Do you ever miss it?"

"What?" asked Castle taking another sip of his coffee.

"Being part of the world. Being normal."

"Don't think I was ever normal."

"I was a Law major at Yale. I wanted to be the one of the best in my generation. Maybe even the Supreme Court."

"So what happened?"

"I went to a government recruitment session with a friend of mine who was interested in going to work for the FBI. There were some men there at a table with no sign on it. I stopped by to see who they were. Fast-forward well over twenty-five years and here I am."

"Sorry you didn't didn't become a super lawyer?"

"Well, there's some comfort. My world is full figuring out the laws and legality of our actions."

"How to break them, you mean."

"A difference of no real distinction," said Gates. She glanced at Castle's arm and hands. "Did you go for a follow up?"

"Not yet."

"Do it. The last thing we need is you dying from an infection. Do it today. I'll set it up. Same place as last time."

"Okay. Any word on Montgomery?"

Gates frowned. "I understand he has been taken under Homeland Security's safety."

"That I know. Can you explain to me how that is possible? Even Bracken didn't know."

"I don't think I can. And I don't even think I understand it either, Castle."

"Is he alive?"

"I would think it inconceivable that Montgomery would have died and we would not be informed."

"What is Homeland's role in all this?"

"They protect the homeland. Our agency on the other hand has no authority to operate inside the country."

"And that, and you know as well, is a long-standing piece of information that isn't true in the slightest."

"Maybe it was. Maybe it's not anymore."

Castle could see that Gates was serious. "Well, that sounds bad."

"I agree."

"And the reason?"

"What did Montgomery tell you that night? Why did he want to meet in the first place?"

"He only had two guards with him. What does that tell you?"

"He felt compromised inside his own agency?"

"Something like that."

"What else?"

Castle drank some of his coffee. "Isn't that enough?"

"Not unless there's more."

"Maybe I'm feeling compromised too."

Gates looked away, her face unreadable. "I guess I can understand that."

"Different rules now, like you said."

"The problem is if none of us trust each other the other side has already won."

"That would be true, if we were sure who was on the other side."

"Kate Beckett?" asked Gates.

"What about her?"

"Whose side is she on?"

"I'll tell you what I told Perlmutter. I think it was Kate who saved my ass and Montgomery's life."

"I thought you were going to say that."

Castle was surprised by this comment and his features showed it. "Why?"

"Because I think Beckett might be on our side."

"And yet she's killed two of our people."

"Follow the trail, Castle."

"So you're saying that Josh and Coonan were traitors." Kate had called them traitors, and Castle was surprised to see that Gates was entertaining this possibility. She was perhaps the biggest advocate of the agency.

"That's right. If Kate is actually on our side."

"And you're saying that's true?"

"I'm saying it's possible."

"Then the number two at the agency is a traitor?"

"Possibly. But then a traitor can have many different definitions. And agendas."

"Who else thinks this?"

"I haven't talked to anyone other than you about it. If you hadn't suggested leaving the office I was going to. These are not statements I make lightly, Castle. I hope you know that. This whole mess doesn't have to do with money."

"So if they are traitors, who were they working for? And what were they working on? And how did Kate find out?"

"All good questions, and I have no answers for you."

"And Homeland's involvement?"

"Others must suspect there's a problem. They might have taken Montgomery for safekeeping."

"And William Bracken?"

"He must be a very worried man about now. Did you tell him about Kate being at Montgomery's?"

Castle nodded.

Gates took a long drink of coffee. "Then he's probably more worried than I thought."

"You heard about Cole Maddox?"

Gates nodded. "Apparently he went way off the grid and into the world of stupidity."

"He was an analyst. What exactly did he analyze?"

"Why do you want to know? You don't think it has anything to do with—"

"I can't afford to discount anything right now."

"He was nothing special. Had a rep for writing nonsense scenario papers. Probably why he was let go. I don't see how he plays into this."

Castle wanted to tell her exactly how Maddox and Kate played into this, but he didn't. "Bracken wanted me to keep going after Kate."

"And your response?"

"I said no."

"And no will tell you that you don't have balls to say no to one of the most powerful person in the world."

"The question is, what do I do now?"

"You did not hear this from me," replied Gates.

"Okay."

"If I were Rick Castle, I would think about going off the grid."

"And do what?"

"Find Kate Beckett. And if you do, you might just find all the answers."

 _I did find her,_ Castle thought. _And I let her go._

Gates finished her coffee and rose. "And then you can do something else, Castle."

Castle was looking at his coffee and then looked up. "What's that?"

"Isn't it obvious? You can thank Kate for saving your life."

After Gates walked off, Castle muttered, "Too late. I already returned the favor."

This time it was Jordan Shaw waiting for Castle. She was in her business attire and had little to no makeup on. This wasn't a casual meeting, instead it was strictly business.

Castle sat down.

"Your drink is on its way," she said.

He eyed her glass. "Wine?"

"Ginger ale. Still on duty technically."

"Been a long day."

"And longer days ahead. I hope." She eyed his right arm. "You looked awkward walking in. Something wrong?"

The burns he had suffered were healing, but very slowly. And his entire right arm had become stiff thanks to the shooting spree he went on against the militia. He wondered how fast he could draw his weapon. Maybe not fast enough. Yet he had done okay against the hillbillies. Adrenaline made pain manageable. It was only later that everything hurt.

"Guess my age is finally catching up to me."

She smirked. "You're are thirty-five. Nice try though."

"Why are you still on duty?" asked Castle.

She sipped her drink as she looked towards the window. "The investigation I was talking about requires my overtime attention. The whole world is a mess, Castle."

"Any new developments?"

"You hear about the shootout in Arkansas? And Cole Maddox?"

"Just the news," he replied.

"Maddox was with your agency."

"Never met or knew the man."

"Didn't last long at the agency apparently. Went nuts and became anti-government all of a sudden. You lot need to do better background checks."

"That's not my job," said Castle.

His drink came and he tasted it.

"Just how you like it?" asked Shaw.

He nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"Good, we can drink to the world going batshit insane."

"So what part of the world has gone insane?"

"Everywhere to be honest. Nothing on Josh or Coonan. The mess in Arkansas. And now the ATF is freaking out too." (ATF = Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives).

"About what?"

"A cottage blew up somewhere up north Virginia and a very advanced device was used. And someone had even put fuel accelerant in a pond behind the cottage too. There wasn't much left in the way of evidence. I'm not on that case. The FBI has a different team for that and they are dealing with Arkansas too. This militia crap is getting really scary. There used to be just dozens of these groups. Now there are thousands of them. Maybe more."

"So how did Cole Maddox die?"

"Have no idea. Not working that one either. There was another shooting at the Federal Court too."

"I didn't hear about that," replied Castle genuinely surprised.

"Several cars involved. No one got a license plate, of course. Some woman in a sedan driving like a race car driver. Shots fired from the vehicles. And the interesting part is that there was a federal judge walking on the street."

"You think he was the target?"

"Again, no idea. But they mentioned it in the report so we have to cover that angle."

"Which judge?"

"Vulcan Simmons."

"Maybe it was just a gang thing."

"That part of Virginia is very upscale. No gang activity there."

"Any leads on the woman who was driving?"

"Nope. Excellent piece of driving and then swish she was gone in the wind."

"The shooters?"

"Nothing. Amazing how that can happen on a crowded street, but it did." She finished her drink. "You asked to meet and I've done all the talking. Now I'm shutting up and putting on my listening ears."

Castle nodded, trying to embrace all that she had told him and wondering if the woman was who he thought she was. It seemed both ridiculously impossible and extremely likely that it was Kate Beckett, particularly after Arkansas.

"It was nice to see Alexis again," said Castle.

"Really? I didn't think it went all that well from my point of view."

"She was upset," admitted Castle.

"And shouldn't she be?"

"Yes, she should. But we talked on the drive to her house."

"And?"

"And she was still upset."

"Your personal skills must've been exceptional on that drive."

"My goal is to keep her safe. You warned me too."

"I know, Castle. But you don't have to completely shut her out of your life. You two went through a lot together. Hell, she and I went through a lot together."

"You and I went through a lot together," noted Castle.

This comment caught Jordan off guard. She sat back, her posture relaxed. "Yeah, we did. You saved my life and risked your life to do it."

"I was the reason you were in danger in the first place. Which brings me back to my point about Alexis. And you. Every time I meet with you I could be putting you back in danger. I don't take that lightly, Jordan. It would probably have been better if I hadn't called and asked you to meet tonight."

"But you can't protect everybody all the time, Castle. Get that across in your thick head. And I'm an FBI agent. I can take care of myself.'

"In normal circumstances, absolutely. I'm not normal."

She snorted but caught his deeply serious expression and said, "I know what you mean, Rick. I get that. I really do."

"And what chance would Alexis have? I'm involved in things right now." He stopped talking and looked away.

She reached out tentatively and touched his hand, wrapping her long fingers around it and squeezing. "What things?"

He looked back at her as she removed her hand, looking embarrassed at having performed this intimate gesture. "In order to cover my back, I have to look in all directions at the same time," he said.

She blinked, obviously trying to decipher this. "Meaning you can't trust anyone?"

"Meaning there are things going on that no one can explain." He paused. "Did you hear about Roy Montgomery?"

"Bits and pieces about something happening at his house."

"I was there. It wasn't ambiguous. It was actually pretty straightforward on certain levels."

"What the hell happened?"

Now Castle wrapped up her hand, hard. It was not an intimate gesture. "If I tell you, it can go no further. I'm not talking about professional courtesy. I'm talking about you staying alive."

Jordan's mouth opened slightly and her eyes widened. "Okay, it goes no further."

Castle took a sip of his drink and set the glass back down. "Montgomery was attacked. His guards were killed. He was wounded. I got him out. Homeland Security took him for safekeeping."

"Why couldn't his own agency protect—" Shaw paused after realizing what she had said.

Castle nodded. "Exactly."

"Are you talking rogue or universal?"

"It's not one traitor running around."

"So universal?"

"Could be."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm thinking about going off the grid."

Shaw sucked in a breath. "Are you sure about that?"

"You went off the grid for me."

"I'm FBI, Castle. You going off the grid is a whole other thing."

"I think it's the only way I'm going to get to the truth."

"Or get killed."

"That could easily happen if I stay where I am." He slowly raised his right arm. "It's already nearly happened twice in the last few days."

She glanced at Castle's arm and then looked back at him. The strain was etched on her face. And that same level of strain was clear on Castle's features.

"What can I do?" she asked.

"You've done plenty already."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"I may contact you at some point."

"Rick, isn't there any other way to handle this? You can come in to the FBI. We can protect you and maybe..." Her voice trailed off.

"I appreciate that. But I think my way is better."

"What are you going to do?"

"I've got some leads to follow up on."

"Can you even get off the grid with all this crap going on?"

"I can try. That's all I can do." He got up. "Thanks for meeting with me."

"Why did you want to meet? Not just to tell me you're going off the grid?"

Castle started to say something but then couldn't get it out.

She rose and stood next to him. Before he could move, Jordan had put her arms around him and squeezed so tightly it was as though they had become one body. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

She said, "You will come back. You will get through this. You're Richard Castle. Hell, you perform the impossible on a regular basis."

"I'll do what I can."

Castle turned and left.

Jordan walked to the front of the restaurant and watched him head down the street until he disappeared into the darkness.

When she got back to her car she just sat there staring off and wondering if that was the last time she would ever see him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned.

* * *

He was now officially off the grid.

Castle was currently sitting in his apartment contemplating on what his next step should be.

He had once gone off the grid and it had not been a pleasant experience. In circumstance, it had nearly cost him his life and the lives of several other people, including Alexis and Shaw.

Kate Beckett was off the grid right now. She was playing a game where she was playing a single game but playing both sides. And Castle had no idea how that would work in her advantage. It only meant that both sides had incentives to find and kill her.

Making more enemies was not a sensible approach. Yet Kate didn't strike him as lacking in the brains department. There was always a logic to her madness.

A former agency analyst in Arkansas turned militia nut. He'd written an apocalypse paper. She was there to find out whom he had sent it to.

Then there was a federal judge in Virginia.

If Kate had been the one who had driven the car, what was the connection if there was even one?

A judge, Josh, Coonan, and Cole Maddox.

Had they teamed up to bring upon the end of the world?

And if they had, what was the plan exactly?

If Maddox had a copy of it, Castle had no way to get to it. The police would be crawling all over his place, or what was left of it. Kate probably had a copy, but again, he had no way to get it from her.

Castle stared down at the text Kate had sent him previously.

 _Everything I do is for a reason. Open the lock and you'll see,_

He suddenly groaned and slapped the table with his palm. How could he have been that stupid? Literally staring him right in the damn face.

He went to his safe, opened it, and pulled out the three items that had been left in her locker.

 _Right, her locker. All I had to do was open it._

Okay, now that the simple part was over, it got complicated really fast.

The gun.

The book.

The photo.

The gun he had already ripped apart and found nothing. It was just a pistol with some specialized parts that pointed him in no specific direction at all.

The book had no notes in it. No book marker. Nothing to point him to a specific part.

The photo meant nothing to him. And he didn't know who the man standing next to Kate was.

 _Everything I do is for a reason_

He said in exasperation, "Great, woman, next time don't make it so damn complicated. It's adding up to something impossible for mere mortals to figure out."

Castle locked the items back up and stared out the window.

What Gates had told him was only one more worrying piece of information on top of many others. It seemed like the agency was imploding from the top level on down. This state of chaos happening to one of the most secure and powerful organization was surprising to say the least.

The world was a truly dangerous place right now. It was far more dangerous even during the Cold War. Back then the opponents were clearly defined and aligned across the world. The stakes were just as clearly understood. The destruction of the world was a possibility. But not really. The theory of mutual assured destruction was a great catalyst for peace. You couldn't take over the world if there was no world left to take over.

Today's situation was far more fluid, far subtler, and the sides kept changing with alarming frequency. And Castle didn't know if the element of mutual assured destruction was enough anymore. Apparently some people didn't care if there was a world left afterward. This was danger on a whole new level.

Montgomery's comments came back to him: Missions that never should have been. Missing personnel. Money moved from here to there and then it disappeared. Equipment sent to places it should not have been sent to and it also disappeared. The most troubling part was that these things happened in discreet quantities over long periods of time. On first glance they didn't seem to be all that remarkable. But when one looks at them together that's when the alarm bells start ringing.

To Castle's mind, missing personnel alone should have been enough of a warning, much less everything else that Montgomery had described.

 _How the hell had this come this far down the hole?_

Bracken had been director long enough to have taken care of such significant issues. Or at least addressed them.

Unless Bracken was on the other side of the chessboard. But that seemed impossible. It was hard enough to envision Coonan being a traitor. But if Kate was to be believed, he was. If Coonan was swayed then who was to say that not another higher up hadn't?

However, what other explanation was there for so many things to go crooked and not be addressed by the management?

He took out his wallet. Inside the compartment where he kept his cash was a small sealed bag. In it were the rose petals.

That was the other clue Kate had left behind.

Someone had taken the roses and who knew what else, but had missed these items. What had Kate meant by this?

If everything she did had a purpose, there had to be some explanation. And it might be significant.

The lady at the florist shop had said the pinkish marks on the rose were sometimes interpreted as blood. Well, there had been a lot of blood spilled over this. Was that the simple meaning that Kate had intended? But if so, how did that help him?

Gates had said that Kate might be on the side of right in all this. What that actually meant in the spy business Castle wasn't sure. Right and wrong switched sides all the time. No, perhaps that was unfair. There were core elements of right and wrong.

Terrorists who killed innocent people with hidden bombs were on the side of wrong, without question. In Castle's mind they were also cowards.

He killed from long distance, but he also risked his life to do it. And he didn't target innocent people. All those he went after spent their lives bringing pain to others.

Does that make me permanently on the side of right?

He shook his head to clear it of these troubling thoughts. Nice fodder for a philosophy class discussion. But it was bringing him no closer to the truth.

Or to Kate Beckett.

He had told Bracken he was not going to look for her.

In part his answer was truthful.

He wasn't going to look for her anymore. At least not on behalf of Bracken and the agency. But he was going to find her, and this time he was going to make her tell him what was going on.

Whatever else happened, he was going to get to the truth.

* * *

This particular meeting was not scheduled.

It really didn't have to be.

Vulcan Simmons sat on one side of the small egg-shaped table. Across from him was another man, younger, fitter, and shorter, with hands like bricks and a torso like a wall.

His name was Hal Lockwood.

"They picked Castle for obvious reasons," said Simmons.

Lockwood nodded. "Good choice. He knows what he's doing."

"And he's not off the grid like you."

"I'm not off the grid, Mr. Simmons," Lockwood corrected. "I'm offline. There's a difference, a big one."

"I realize that," said Simmons quietly. "I was instrumental in putting you there. Where we could maximize your talents."

Lockwood said nothing. He placed his palms on the tabletop. Even sitting he kept his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He could move in an instant if he needed to. And over the years he had needed to on many occasions.

"Kate Beckett," said Simmons.

Lockwood just sat there, waiting.

Simmons continued, "She's out there and she's growing more troublesome by the minute."

"She was always good at that."

"I take it you knew her well?"

"No one knew Beckett well. Just like no one knows Castle. They kept it all inside. Just like I do. Goes with the territory."

"But you worked with her?"

"Yes."

"And Castle?

"Twice. Both in support roles. Turns out he didn't need the support."

"Can you take out either or both of them, if it comes to it?"

"Yes. If the conditions are right."

"We can try to make sure they are."

"I need you to do better than try."

Simmons frowned. "I came to you because I understood you were one of the best."

"You're asking me to go after two people who may be as good as me. Singly I can probably take them. Together, there are no guarantees."

"Then we have to make sure they never get together."

"Castle is tasked to go after her. Maybe he'll get there and save you the trouble."

"There have been recent developments with Castle that give me some concern about that happening."

Lockwood shifted slightly. "Such as?"

"Reportedly he's starting to think for himself on this rather than following orders. And it's more than that."

"I need to know it all."

"Beckett has been communicating with him. Telling him things."

"Manipulating him, you mean. She's good at that."

"I didn't think you knew her well?"

"I knew her enough to know that." Lockwood leaned forward. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"I'm listening."

"Let it play out. Castle kills Beckett. Or vice versa. Or they kill each other."

"That was the original plan. It may still happen," replied Simmons. He leaned forward until he was only a few inches from Lockwood. "You're the fail-safe. And if I'm reading things correctly you're going to be deployed to get the job done. I can't count on an ideal world. That's a sucker's bet and involves an element of luck that I simply can't depend on."

"Then the conditions better be right."

"As you suggested, I will do better than try."

"How?" said Lockwood.

"Kate Beckett isn't the only one who can manipulate."

"Not as easy as it might look."

Simmons said, "I don't think it's easy at all. It's very difficult, in fact."

"So how?"

"I'll take care of that. You take care of your end."

"That's all I get?"

"Compartmentalize. It's the best protocol all around."

"You're not the sort I expected."

"You mean a judge?"

Lockwood shrugged.

Simmons smiled. "I'm a special kind of judge, Mr. Lockwood. My time behind the bench is limited to a very few cases. The rest of the time is spent doing other things for my country. I like doing these other things far more than my infrequent rulings from the bench."

"You must have pull. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here with you."

"I have more than pull. I'm often the one doing the pulling."

"When will I be deployed?"

"The exact timing is unknown. But if I'm reading the tea leaves correctly it will be very soon. You're to be ready twenty-four/seven. Move at a moment's notice."

"Story of my life," replied Lockwood.

"Let's hope it's not the story of your death."

"Goes with the territory."

Simmons sat back. "You keep saying that. I might start believing it."

"I don't expect you to understand it, Mr. Simmons. It's a small club I'm a member of."

"I actually can understand that."

"I don't think so. Not unless you've killed as many people as I have. And there aren't many in the world who have."

"How many have you killed?"

"Thirty-nine. That's one reason I'm interested in Beckett. She'd make an even forty."

"That's impressive. And of course Castle would make it a very uneven forty-one."

"Not something I would lose sleep over, I can assure you."

"Glad to hear that."

Simmons smiled. The muzzle was against Lockwood's forehead before he had time to react.

Lockwood's eyes widened as the metal pressed against his skin.

Simmons said, "As I mentioned, I wasn't always a judge. I checked your file. You've been working for eleven years. Is that right?"

When Lockwood didn't answer Simmons pushed the muzzle harder against his face. "Is that right?'

"Yes."

Simmon's nodded. "I pulled an even forty. That was before they put a cap on time in the field to twenty. I think people these days have gotten a little softer. I never even had decent night optics. Did four kills in the dead of night with a flashlight and a piece-of-shit Cold War-era sniper rifle. But I still got the job done. And by the way, I never bragged about my kill total."

Simmon's pulled the gun's safety back. "One more thing: did I mention that there was a test involved in your selection?"

"Test?" asked a bewildered Lockwood.

"If an old man could get the drop on you, I don't think you're much use to me. You're not even qualified to wipe Castle's or Kate's ass. Which means this interview is officially over."

Simmon's pulled the trigger, the gun fired, and the round destroyed Lockwood's brain. He fell backward out of his chair.

Simmon's rose, wiped the blood blowback off his face with a handkerchief, and then holstered his gun.

He looked down at the body. "And for the record, I finished with sixty kills. There's only one person out there with more. He's old-school. Just like me. I never would've gotten the drop on him like I did you. Asshole."

Simmon's walked out the door

* * *

Her phone lit up the darkness around her. On the screen was a familiar face, at least from a distance.

Rick Castle looked back at her.

She knew she should have told him more during the standoff in Arkansas. But in truth she had been stunned to see him there. She had convinced herself that somehow the agency had been able to follow her and sent Castle in for the kill. That had rocked her, made any faith she had in him disappear. That faith had been restored when he hadn't killed her, of course. But now she was afraid for him.

If the agency found out he had the shot but hadn't taken it, Castle would be in serious jeopardy. And if she tried to communicate with him again and he agreed to work with her, something she had thought she wanted, then he would be in even graver danger. Killers would be sent after him. And he hadn't prepared to go on the run like she had. As good as he was, he wouldn't survive. They had too many resources.

I have to go this alone.

She pulled the white paper from her bag and read through it again.

Having now met Cole Maddox, she would have hardly expected the man to be capable of piecing together a plan of such complexity. Unfortunately, his decision to plot mass murder against his fellow citizens to fuel his bizarre rage against the government was entirely in keeping with the essence of his end of the world paper.

And anyone who subscribed to what was in that paper was insane as well. And dangerous.

Maddox was dead. He couldn't harm anyone ever again. But there were others out there far better placed to execute the Armageddon outlined in his paper.

Country by country.

Leader by leader.

The perfect jigsaw puzzle.

If death and misery on a massive scale had a face, it could be Maddox's perverted masterpiece.

And then there was the unknown. The person who she felt certain had to be out there. The three levels above Maddox. The top-top-secret clearance. The person who had wanted the paper. Who had wanted to know the master jigsaw puzzle.

Jackie The Westie. Who was he? Where was he? And what was he planning right now?

The attack against Roy Montgomery was predictable, but Beckett had never seen it coming until it was too late. Montgomery was alive, but for how long? Beckett would have loved to sit and talk with her old mentor. To find out what and how he had discovered something that had led to his nearly dying.

But that wasn't possible. Beckett had no idea where Montgomery was. And he would be heavily guarded. And yet if the attack against his had come from the inside, how safe would he be wherever the man was?

Beckett looked down at her phone again. Should she chance it?

Without stopping to think about it anymore, she pecked the keys and the message was sent to Castle, despite her having just decided not to communicate with him again. But it was a different sort of query, one that they couldn't hold against him.

She didn't know if she would get an answer. She didn't know if Castle trusted her or believed her. She remembered being part of his team early in her career. He had been the most professional among a group of excellent pros. He had taught her things, without really saying much. He sweated the little details. They were the difference, he told her, between making it or not.

She had learned some of what had happened to him earlier in the year. He had done the unthinkable for people in their profession. He hadn't pulled the trigger. And he had hugged her again. For the second time and she could argue against it all she wanted but she felt something within her. Maybe it was a sexual desire, but she doubted that. Maybe it was the fact that they were almost the same person and could truly understand each other's misgivings. And he had done the impossible. He had disobeyed orders because he believed them to be wrong.

The average citizen would think there was nothing special in that. If you thought something was wrong, why not disobey? But it wasn't that easy. More even than regular soldiers, Castle and Beckett had been trained to follow orders without question. Without that unbreakable chain of command, without that devotion to authority, the system simply didn't work. Nothing could interfere with that.

But each of them had disobeyed orders.

Castle had refused to pull the trigger. Twice. The second time was the only reason Beckett was still alive.

But she had pulled the trigger. She had killed two men who worked for the government. Both constituted crimes punishable by long imprisonment or even death.

Beckett wondered if Castle was still coming after her. She wondered if right now he regretted not killing her.

Her phone buzzed. She looked down at the screen.

Rick Castle had just answered her

* * *

Castle was staring at his phone. His fingers had just finished typing. He wondered how long before people from the agency would contact him.

Or kick down his door.

 _Alive. For now._

That's what he had typed and sent her in response to her simple question:

 _Montgomery?_

Castle continued to stare at his phone screen, part of him hoping that she would text again. He had many things he wanted to ask her. Things he hadn't had time to ask when he had seen her in Arkansas.

He had just about given up when another text from Kate dropped in:

 _GPB_.

GPB?

Castle was certainly not up to date on the latest Internet acronyms. And he had no idea if GPB was one of those or was a coded message from Kate. If it was coded he had no idea what it meant.

But why would she think he would?

He sat back in his chair and thought back to the last mission they had done together all those years ago. It was about as routine as you could expect in their line of work. But something had gone wrong, which sometimes happened.

Castle had gone to the left and at the same second Kate had darted to the right. If they had gone in the same direction, they both would have been dead. As it stood, they neutralized the threats coming at them from two sides.

Castle had thought about it later and even asked Kate why she had gone the opposite way, because there was no visible threat on either flank yet. She really couldn't answer him other than to say, "I knew you were going the way you did."

"How?" Castle had asked.

She'd asked a question in answer to his. "How did you know which way I was going to go?"

And he couldn't answer her other than to say that he had just felt it. It was that simple. Not that he could literally read her mind. But he knew what her reaction would be in that exact situation. And she knew what his would be.

That had never happened to him again. Only with Kate Beckett. He wondered if that had been her last time too.

When the call came he looked at the screen and then put his phone away. It was Langley. He didn't feel like explaining to them why he had done what he had. In one sense he didn't feel it was any of their business. If they could keep secrets from him, he could keep secrets from them. They were all spies, after all.

And that's when a totally unrelated thought entered his mind. Well, part of his mind must have been thinking about it as he took this walk down memory lane.

Reel had told him few things about herself, but one had struck him.

"I'm a direct person, Castle," she'd said after they returned from their last mission.

"Meaning what?" Castle had asked.

"Meaning I like to begin at the beginning and end at the end."

With this thought inspiration occurred. He jumped up, ran to his wall safe, took out the three objects again, and looked at them.

Gun.

Photo.

Book.

 _GPB_.

He sat down with renewed energy and interest. He had unconsciously laid them out in the correct order when he'd looked at them last. But at least now he had confirmation that there was an order to them.

He held the gun. He had already taken it apart and found nothing. But actually he had found something.

 _Everything I do is for a reason._

That's what Kate had written him. Everything she did had a reason.

He looked at the gun.

His eyes narrowed.

She had done some alterations to the gun.

He looked at the weapon's sight. Virginia Small Arms Company. An add-on by Kate, though the standard sight that had come with the gun was perfectly fine.

The titanium plunger. Nice add-on, but again not necessary.

He examined once more the stippled grip that Kate had presumably put on the weapon. Again, although polymer frames like the gun could sometimes be slippery, the original grip was perfectly fine.

So why had Kate taken the time to manually remake the factory grip when she didn't really need to? Etching a dabbed surface onto the frame would have taken time. And if you didn't know what you were doing or made a mistake, it could make the weapon nearly unusable, at least so far as the grip was concerned.

And most of her killing would be done at long range anyway when the weapon's grip really wasn't an issue.

Seventeen rounds were pretty much standard in this gun's model. Yet she had nearly doubled her capacity in an extra-long mag that, in truth, was a little awkward.

Kate didn't strike him as someone who enjoyed clutter.

He looked at the model number: Gun 19.

He was going to have to do this methodically. He imagined that Kate had come up with it in the same way.

Castle knew he was on the right path because of the text she had sent him. It had to mean Gun, Photo, Book. There was no other possible explanation. And it was a pretty shrewd way to go about it. Kate had known that the agency would allow him to search her locker and take her things once they had assigned him to hunt her down. And the only reason they had allowed him access to her locker was because they had searched through the items and found nothing useful in them. So she must have assumed that he would at some point gain access to the items and would examine them for a clue of some kind.

He took out a pad of paper and a pen and fired up his laptop. He opened a search engine and started looking, feeding the facts he had gleaned from the gun into the search. He had to go through quite a few false starts until what he saw finally started to make sense. Not complete sense, but enough to get him moving in a fresh and possibly rewarding direction.

He wrote it all down, closed out his search, and shut down his laptop.

He jumped up and went to pack a bag. He had somewhere to go. And he had to make sure he got there without someone tailing him.

Jordan Shaw's words came back to him. Could he successfully go off the grid?

He was about to find out.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer:** This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

It was a dimly lit, oval chamber, full of wooden panels, the walls covered in artwork, plush carpeting, large, ornate doors, massive lighting fixtures, and an air of inspiring wealth.

It was federal money spent just right. A true rarity.

At least that was Vulcan Simmon's humble opinion.

He sat in his office at the courthouse. He closed the book he was reading and checked his watch.

Just about time.

A minute later his clerk came in and announced the arrival of Congressman John Raglan. The man walked in and shook hands with the judge as the clerk left them to their private meeting.

Besides chairing the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence, Raglan had once been on a judiciary subcommittee, so his meeting with Simmon's would raise no eyebrows. Plus, the men had been friends for years and shared a commonality of thought and ambition. As the chairman of the Intelligence Committee, Raglan had congressional fingerprints from the CIA to the Treasury Department and lots of federal real estate in between.

They sat at a table laid out with crystal and linen napkins and a cold lunch prepared by the court chef. Simmon's poured out glasses of white wine for them both.

"A nice treat," said Raglan. "The Congressional Dining Room gets a little old."

"Well, we needed to talk, so why not here, in comfort and privacy?"

Raglan chuckled and lifted the wineglass to his lips. "Not worried about someone listening in on the court that authorizes people listening in?"

Simmon's features were impassive. "We need to talk, Raglan."

Raglan put the glass back down and his expression became serious. "It's about Cole Maddox, isn't it?"

"It's about a lot more than that," said Simmon's.

"You think Katherine Beckett did all that? It looked like a war zone on the news."

"I've been to war, Raglan. It didn't look anything like a war zone. They look a lot worse than that."

Suitably put in his place, Raglan sat back in his chair and licked his already chapped lips. "What do we do now?"

"Our plan hasn't changed, has it?"

"Which plan? To get Beckett? Of course not."

"Good, just checking. I wanted to make sure we are still on the same page."

Raglan grimaced. "But what steps have you taken? It doesn't look like this Castle person is going to get the job done."

Simmon's took a sip of wine and considered this. "He may get a job done. Just not the one we want."

"I'm not following you."

"I have received a very detailed report of what happened out in Arkansas. A very detailed report, from the highest sources."

"And?"

"And that level of carnage could not have been perpetrated by one person, not even someone as skilled as Katherine Beckett."

Raglan sat forward. "Are you telling me that she had help?" he blustered. He paused, then added, "Castle!"

"I have no definite proof of that. But it would be a coincidence of immense proportions to believe that someone else wandered into that little drama with a skill set perfectly designed for survival against what should have been overwhelming odds." He put his glass down and took a forkful of salmon. "And I for one do not like coincidences."

"If Castle and Beckett have teamed up..."

"I didn't say that."

"But you just said it had to be the two of them."

"But that doesn't mean they've teamed up, Raglan."

"What the hell else could it be? You just as good as said they killed all those men together."

"Mutual survival does not mean you're on the same side. I could be wrong, but it might simply be that conditions on the ground led to a temporary alliance."

"But that's still not good for us."

"Of course it isn't. But it might mean it's manageable."

"If Castle joins Beckett?"

"Then he will be dealt with. I have people in mind for the task."

"If it's the same people you have going after Kate I'd say don't bother."

"And your alternative?"

"It's your job to have the answers in this particular area, Simmon's, not me. Our division of labor was explicitly laid out. I helped get you the assets you needed. And the target. That was my job. I did it."

Simmon's took a mouthful of rice and broccoli and washed it down with some water from a cut-crystal glass. "You're right, it was. I apologize."

Calmed, Raglan sat back and started to eat.

Simmon's said, "I actually anticipated Kate locating Maddox. I thought they were prepared to take care of her. I was obviously wrong. I won't make that mistake again."

"I would hope not."

"I also tried to recruit someone to deal with Kate and possibly Castle, but he didn't work out."

"Will he be a problem?"

"I doubt it." Simmon's picked up his glass of wine.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I shot him in the head." Simmon's took a sip of the wine.

Raglan dropped his fork. It clanged off the china plate and fell to the floor.

"You don't like the salmon?" asked Simmon's as he wiped his mouth.

His hands shaking, Raglan bent down and picked up his fork. His face ashen, he said, "You shot him?"

"Well, there wasn't a viable alternative, really. And he was an arrogant prick. Thought way too much of himself. Hell, I believe I would have shot him regardless." Simmon's settled his gaze on Raglan's frightened features. "I don't like arrogant pricks, Raglan. I don't like people who think too much of themselves. I tend to shoot them. I tend to shoot them in the head to make sure they're dead."

Raglan licked his lips. "I know you're under a lot of stress, Simmon's."

Simmon's shook his head. "This isn't stress, Raglan. Living in a hole in the ground in the middle of a snake-and mosquito-infested jungle for months on end wondering what was going to get you first, the dysentery eating your insides away and the enemy who kept picking your guys off one by one—now that, my friend, that was stressful."

"I'm under a lot of pressure too."

"Right. You get elected and you have your big office and your driver and your staff and the fancy dinners and you go back home and raise money by kissing rich asses and then you come here and occasionally actually do your damn job and vote on something. Lots of pressure. Politics is hell. Glad I never went there. I just wore a uniform and got my ass shot up. You, on the other hand, never wore the uniform."

"I was too young for Vietnam."

"So you would have volunteered, like I did?"

"I'm not saying that."

"And nothing was stopping you from joining over the years."

"Not everyone is cut out for the military. I had other goals in life."

"I earned more medals than some of the top generals in power right now. After the war I got my college and law degrees. Uncle Sam helped pay for it. No complaints there. I did my time. I got my quid pro quo. You did shit and now you serve the people from a nice, safe office."

Simmon's suddenly reached across and gripped the back of Raglan's fleshy neck and jerked him forward until their faces were barely an inch apart. "So the next time you seek to lecture me on anything will be the last time you lecture anyone about anything. Are we crystal clear on that? Because I don't intend to repeat it."

Simmon's let Raglan go and sat back. He picked up his fork. "Try the rice. It's a little spicy, but it goes well with the seasoned broccoli."

Raglan didn't move. He just sat there staring across at Simmon's.

Simmon's finished his lunch and rose. "My clerk will show you out. I hope you have a productive day up there on the Hill serving your country."

He walked out of the room, leaving Raglan trembling in his chair

* * *

Castle drove slowly in the small streets of Titanium, Pennsylvania. It was a small town with the usual assortment of homes and businesses. People strolled down the street, window-shopping at the mom-and-pop stores located there. Cars moved along. Folks waved at each other. The pace was slow, comfortable.

He had done everything possible to avoid being trailed here. He felt it would have been impossible for even the best agents out there to keep him under surveillance. And if they had, they deserved to put one in the win column.

He eyed his GPS. He was looking for a certain street, and he hoped it was the right one. The computer told him it was a mile or so out of the downtown area.

Roy Mount Street. As in Roy Montgomery, the senior field agent who showed Kate how to draw her pistol grips.

Castle had loaded in a specific number address on Roy Mount Street. It could have been one of two possibilities. He had inputted the one he'd chosen on the flip of a coin back at his apartment. However, in such a small place he figured Roy Montgomery couldn't be that long if he had to run down the second choice.

He slowed the car after he'd left the town and reentered a rural area. He made the right on Mount and drove straight back until the road cut sharply to the right. There didn't seem to be any street numbers here, because there were no houses. He had just started to fear that his trip had been for nothing when he cleared another curve and saw it up ahead. It looked like a motor court of some sort, dating back to maybe the sixties.

Castle pulled his car to a stop in front of a small office that had a large plate glass window in front. The building formed a horseshoe with the office at the center. It was two stories high and slanted.

Castle didn't focus on that. His gaze went first to the street number painted on the front of the building.

Thirty-four.

The same number as the rounds in Kate's oversized gun.

The other number that Castle had considered was 19, the model number of the gun.

Thirty-four had obviously been the correct one. His coin flip was a winner. But it also made sense. The 19 model was standard. Kate had modified it with the extra-long mag.

His gaze next went to the sign in front of the motor court. Its background was painted white, with narrowly drawn black concentric circles emanating from the center, and the perimeter painted a bold red. The name of the motor court was the Bull's-Eye Inn; the sign represented the bull's-eye.

 _Cheesy_ , thought Castle, but maybe it had been original and catchy when the place was first built.

The red edge was what had drawn his attention, however.

He held up the photo he'd found in Kate's locker. The picture of Kate and the unknown gent. The edge of red on the right side of the photo could be from the sign, if they had been standing next to it. More confirmation that he was in the right place.

Castle parked the car and got out and headed to the office. Through the plate glass he could see an elderly white-haired woman sitting behind a waist-high counter. When he opened the door a bell tinkled. The woman looked up from her computer, which was old enough not to be a flat-screen but still had the bubble butt the size of a small TV. She rose to greet him.

Castle looked around. The place didn't appear to have been changed since opening day. It looked frozen in time from well before a man had walked on the moon or JFK had been elected president.

"Can I help you?" the woman said.

Up close she looked to be in her seventies. Her hair was delicate, cottony, her shoulders rounded and bent, and her knees didn't look all that sturdy. The metal nameplate on her blouse read "Viola Maddox."

Castle said, "I was just driving through and saw this place. Quite something."

"Original owner built it right after World War 2."

"Are you the new owner, Viola?"

She grinned, showing capped teeth. "Honey, there's nothing 'new' about me. And if I were the owner, I wouldn't be sitting here trying to use a computer. I'd hire someone to do it for me. But I can always phone my great-granddaughter. She tells me what button to hit."

"You have any rooms available?"

"Yes, we do. Not exactly the busy season for us. Most people come here to get closer with nature. But it's a little cold to be with nature right about now. We do the best in the summer months, and late spring is pretty good too."

"Is Room 19 available?"

She looked at him with a quizzical expression. "Room 19? We don't have a Room 19."

"But it looks like you have more than nineteen rooms."

"Oh, we do. But it was the quirk of the original owner. He started with room 100 and worked up from there. Guess he wanted the place to sound a lot bigger than it was. We have twenty-five rooms, thirteen on each floor. That's unlucky, come to think of it. Thirteen. But we've been here a long time, so I guess no harm, no foul."

Castle had taken a shot in the dark with the number 19. If Kate had left him hidden clues he wanted to try all of them.

"Well, then give me whatever room you have available."

She slid out a key for Room 114 and handed it to him after he paid for two nights in cash.

"There's a pretty good place to eat in town called Joe's Place. That's the nice restaurant anyway. You know, tablecloths and napkins made of something other than paper towels. They got stuff on the menu I've never heard of and couldn't cook myself to save my life. But it's real good if you got the money to spend, which most folks around here don't. Now, if you're economy-minded you can try the Remy's Grill one block over from Palisades. It's just plain comfort food. Burgers, pizza, and fries. I'm partial to the strawberry shake they do. It's real nice and only costs a buck."

"Thanks."

Castle was turning to go back to his car and get his bag when her words made him stop.

"Of course, there is a Cabin 19."

He turned to face her. "A Cabin 19."

"Guess I forgot to tell you about our cabins."

"I guess so," said Castle, looking at her expectantly.

"But it wouldn't have done you any good."

"Why is that?'

"Well, if you had your heart set on Cabin 19, I couldn't have rented it to you."

"Why not?"

"It's already rented. Has been for a long time."

"A long time. By who?"

She pursed her lips. "Well, that's confidential, isn't it?"

"If you say so," replied Castle with a smile. The last thing he needed was her calling Roy Mount's police on him for being overly curious. "Thing is number 19 is the one I wore when I played football in college. Best years of my life. So wherever I go, I always try to stay in number 19. Stupid, I know, but it's important to me."

"Hell, honey, I play the same numbers on the lottery every week because they're my wedding day, 11, 15, and 21, my age when I got married. My big ball Lotto numbers are the year I was born, which I won't share with you because you'd know I was over twenty-one. Hard to know just by looking at me, right?"

"Right," said Castle, with another grin.

"So I don't resent you your 19."

"Thanks," answered Castle. "So where are your cabins?"

"Oh, we have twenty of them. I know, almost as many as the rooms we have. But that was the original owner's idea again. Let you get communal with nature. They're set back in the woods. Very rustic. That means one room with a bed and a toilet and sink, and a woodstove. All the necessities minus the comfort."

"How about a shower?"

"You can use the one here. We have it designated for cabin renters. Or you can just use the sink in the cabin for a quick one. Most folks renting cabins don't have personal hygiene high on their priority list. Hell, I never see most of the folks. They come and go as they please."

"Other than Cabin 19, any others rented?"

"No."

"Anyone in Cabin 19 now?"

"I wouldn't know. Like I said, they come and go."

"They. Two people?"

"Well, aren't you the curious one?"

"Always have been. Gets me in more trouble, so I'll just stop right now." Castle gave her another grin, which he hoped was disarming. He had the sense he had just pushed too hard. He hoped he didn't regret it.

She eyed him. "Look, honey, you want to trade in your room for a cabin? Number 14 is all ready to go. It's got a nice view and a new toilet. Well, new in the sense that it's less than five years old and works more often than not."

"Hey, why not?" said Castle. "I like mingling with nature as much as the next person. How do I get there?"

"About a quarter-mile walk from here. The cabins are spread out in the woods, but there're signs posted telling you where each one is. You can leave your car in the lot out front and walk back there. The trail starts right behind the center of the motel."

A few minutes later Castle was walking on the trail toward Cabin 14 with his knapsack over his left shoulder.

And his gun in his right hand.

* * *

Cabin 14 looked exactly as Viola had described it. Rustic. He set his knapsack down on the bed that was barely more than a cot. It was shorter than Castle was tall.

Woodstove in the corner. A table. A chair. A toilet and sink behind a makeshift enclosure. Two windows on opposite walls. He went to one window and looked out.

There was no cabin in sight, just trees. People who rented them must want their privacy. He would have to do a walk around to get the lay of the land.

He had seen the sign for Cabin 19. It was to his left. He just didn't know how far. He was so deep in the woods now that he could hear no cars, no people talking. No TVs or radios.

He could be alone with nature.

Only maybe he wasn't alone.

He sat in the one chair, facing the door, his gun in his right hand. With his left hand he slid the book on World War II out of his knapsack. It was the last unsolved clue.

Kate did everything for a reason.

She was linear.

He opened the book. He had looked through it before, but not all that carefully. It was a long book and he just hadn't had the time.

Now he felt like he had to make the time.

The light was rapidly diminishing and the cabin was not wired for electricity. As he slowly turned the pages and it drew darker, he put his gun aside and used a small flashlight to illuminate the page.

However, he kept glancing at the door and windows. The latter had curtains, but he was aware that his light made him a target. He had moved the chair to a point in the room where he was in no direct sight line from outside.

He had pushed the table in front of the door after locking it. He figured if someone burst in he would have enough time to douse the light, grab his weapon, aim, and fire. At least he hoped so.

He slowly turned the pages, taking in every word. When he came to the middle of chapter 19 he stopped.

The section was entitled simply "The White Rose."

Castle read swiftly. The White Rose was the name taken by a resistance group of mostly college students in Munich during World War II who worked against the tyranny of the Nazis. The group had taken its name from a novel about peasant exploitation in Mexico. Most of the members of the White Rose were executed by the Nazis. But pamphlets they had printed were smuggled out of Germany and dropped by the millions from Allied bombers. After the war the members of the White Rose had been hailed as heroes.

Castle slowly closed the book and set it aside.

Once more adopting Kate's obsession with order and logic, he went through the ordeal of the White Rose and tried to graft those elements onto her situation.

The White Rose had fought against Nazi tyranny.

They had felt betrayed.

They hadn't killed anyone, but they had attempted to stoke anger against the Nazis in order to see them stopped.

They had been killed for their troubles.

Castle slowly turned this over in his mind and then moved forward in time.

Kate had been fighting against something.

She had felt betrayed.

She had taken action to stop whoever was against her, and that included killing. But that's what she did. The woman was no college student writing pamphlets.

The jury was still out on whether she would sacrifice her life or not.

Then Castle thought back to Montgomery's words.

Personnel missing.

Equipment moved.

Missions that never should have been.

And Gates. According to her a different agency seemed to be in place.

Montgomery had been distrustful of people within his own agency. He had had only two bodyguards with him because of this. And he had been both proved right and paid the price for such limited protection.

Allegedly, Kate had gone off the grid and murdered two members of her own agency. If she'd done so, again according to Gates, it might have been because they were on the wrong side and Kate was on the side of right.

If all that was true, then the agency was full of traitors, and they went very high in the pecking order. At least as high as Coonan and maybe higher.

And then there was the matter of Cole Maddox.

He had been with the agency. He had written some sort of apocalypse paper. He had joined a militia. He was now dead.

Castle picked up his gun and checked his watch. He had not come here simply to read a book.

It would soon be dark, and darker still where he was, with no source of light other than the stars, which were now hidden behind a gauzy veil of clouds.

He opened his knapsack and pulled out his night optics. He put them on and fired them up. They worked fine, turning the invisible to visible.

Castle's plan was simple.

He was going to visit Cabin 19.

The darkness would be both a benefit and danger to him.

If it wasn't occupied, Castle would find what he could. If the cabin yielded no clues he would have wasted a lot of time and come away with nothing.

He wondered what his next step would be if that turned out to be the case. Go back to D.C.? Go back on the grid? After what he suspected? That his agency was compromised and corrupted?

His last text exchange with Kate had without doubt been picked up by others. They would want to know what Castle had deduced. They would want to know where he had gone. They might want him dead, depending on his answers.

Well, then I just won't give them any answers until I know which side folks are really on.

He had relied on a moral compass that by some miracle he still had inside him, despite what he did for a living. That meant he couldn't walk away from this one. That meant he had to confront it at some point.

He waited until after two in the morning before setting out. He opened the door of Cabin 14 and stepped out into the pitch black.

Next stop, Cabin 19

* * *

It was exactly like Cabin 14, except there was a flowerpot out front on the porch with a single drooping flower. The first frost would kill it off. The flowerpot also had a cat painted on it.

Castle was standing back at the tree line. His gaze went to the door of the cabin, to the flower, and then to the surrounding darkness.

Through his night optics, the world was presented in sharp relief. But it couldn't show him everything. There could be something else out there that he didn't see.

So he studied that flowerpot for a long time, wondering why it was there. Just one droopy flower. And it was one that needed sun, as many flowers did. Yet there was no sun here. Which meant there was no reason to plant it in a pot and put it on the steps.

It made no sense. And thus it made perfect sense. Everything Kate did had a purpose.

He went back over the cottage fiasco frame by frame in his head. He had fired at the door and the porch, trying to set off booby traps from a safe distance.

He twirled a suppressor onto the muzzle of his gun, aimed, and fired twice. The pot cracked, and dirt and flower parts flew up into the air.

There was no explosion.

But through his night optics Castle did see the remains of some device whirling off into the darkness.

He moved closer and examined some of this debris: the shattered parts of a surveillance camera. He picked up a piece of the clay pot. A hole had been bored into it and then hidden by the picture of the cat.

The pot had been Kate's eyes.

And Castle had just blinded her.

It felt good.

And he also now had confirmation that the renter of Cabin 19 was indeed Katherine Beckett. She had given him the clues to get here.

But that didn't make him trust her.

He slipped his thermal imager out of his knapsack, fired it up, and pointed it at the cabin. Nothing living inside registered on its screen.

But that had happened last time and still Castle had almost fried.

Ultimately, he decided he just had to get it done. He moved stealthily toward the cabin, knelt, and fired at the door and the porch floor.

Nothing happened other than metal ripping through old wood.

He waited, listening for sounds.

A scampering in the trees was a squirrel or deer. Humans couldn't move like that.

He crab-walked forward some more, squatted, and studied the structure.

There wasn't much remaining to deduce from the outside. He hoped the inside would be a lot more informative.

He moved toward the porch and hurried up the steps to the door. One kick and the wooden door flew back. Castle was in the room in the next second and had cleared it five seconds after that. He shut the door behind him, pulled his flashlight, and shined it around.

What he saw was not what he had been expecting. There was no I AM SORRY stenciled on the wall.

There could be a firebomb in here somewhere, but he didn't focus on that. There was a woodstove, a table, chairs, and a bed. And a small toilet and sink. Just like his cabin. On the table was a battery-powered lantern. He examined it for booby traps, found none, turned it on, and the room became dimly illuminated.

Also on the table were two pictures set in frames.

One was of Josh Davidson.

The other was of Coonan.

Black slashes had been drawn across the pictures of the dead men.

There were three other frames lined up next to them. There were no pictures in them. In front of the frames was a single grey-white rose.

He picked up the pictures of Josh and Coonan and checked to see if anything was hidden behind them. There was nothing. He did the same with the three other frames.

Castle wondered whose pictures Kate intended to insert in these when and if the time came. And he still didn't know why, other than that for some reason she thought these men were traitors to their country.

Castle still had no proof of that.

But what had happened to Roy Montgomery made him realize that something was off. He touched the white rose. It felt moist. Perhaps it had recently been placed here.

He whipped around so fast, he heard her gasp at the speed of his reflexes.

His gun was pointed right at her head, his finger past the trigger guard and near the trigger itself. One twitch of his finger and she was dead from a third eye between her other two.

But it wasn't Kate.

It was Viola from behind the counter at the Bull's-Eye Inn who stared back at him.

"Ms. Viola, what in the world are you doing here?" demanded Castle.

He did not lower his pistol. She was old but she could still be a threat.

She said calmly, "I could ask you the same question, young man. This is not Cabin 14. This is Cabin 19. As I told you, it's already rented."

"Doesn't seem to be anyone here. Doesn't look lived in at all. Just photos and a white rose on the table."

Viola looked past him to the photos and flower then drew her gaze back to him. "Doesn't matter. They paid, and it's theirs to do with what they want."

"Who exactly are 'they'?"

"Like I said before, confidential."

"I think we're well past confidences, Viola. I think you need to tell me right now."

"She won't but I will."

Castle swung his pistol around to take aim at the newcomer.

Katherine Beckett was standing in front of him.

What surprised him was that she had no gun. Her arms were down by her sides. Castle ran his gaze quickly over her.

Kate said, "No weapons, Rick. No throwing knife. No tricks."

Castle remained silent as she took another deliberate step into the room. He kept swiveling his gaze between both women.

Kate had said she was unarmed, something he didn't believe. But she hadn't said the old woman wasn't packing. And at this short distance even a seventy-year-old could shoot and kill him.

"You two know each other?" he asked at last.

"You could say that," replied Kate. "She was my security blanket."

Castle cocked his head questioningly at her.

"I thought if she was here you wouldn't put a bullet in my head."

"I didn't in Arkansas."

"I appreciate that more than you'll ever know. But circumstances change."

"Yes, they do. But why would you think her being here would stop me from killing you now?"

"Because if you kill me, you'd have to kill her. And you don't kill innocent people. It's not how you're wired."

Castle shook his head. "How do I know she's innocent? She doesn't seem surprised by any of this."

Viola said, "But I was. Didn't think you could move that fast. Scared me."

"He always did move fast," said Kate. "But no unnecessary movement. Everything calculated for maximum efficiency. I saw that in Arkansas vividly. A one-man army."

"So where does that leave us?"

"With you pointing a gun at me. Like back in Arkansas."

"Doesn't really answer the question."

"What do you want the answer to be?"

"You killed two members of the agency in cold blood. Under normal circumstances that would be enough of an answer for me. That's what I told you in Arkansas, and that's what I'm telling you now. Back there I asked for an explanation. I'm asking again."

She took another step forward. "Under normal circumstances?" she said.

Castle let his finger slide past the trigger guard and close in on the trigger. Kate noted this and stopped moving. They both knew he was close to the point of no return.

Viola hovered in the background looking tense, her gaze focused on Kate.

Castle said, "Montgomery? He made it clear to me that the situation was not normal." Castle gestured over his shoulder to the table. "Grey-White Rose? Resistance group in World War II. Fought against what they considered the traitorous Nazis."

"I was afraid they'd police the roses I left."

"They did, only they missed a couple of petals. Probably the only reason they left the book in your locker for me to look at. They didn't think I'd have any evidence of the flower."

"Good to know they make mistakes."

"My problem, though, is that maybe you're the traitor and all this is a smokescreen."

"Maybe I am."

"Katie!" snapped Viola. "You know that's not true."

Castle let his gaze flicker over the old woman. He had already noted she was fully dressed, though the hour was very late.

This was all planned.

Castle asked Viola, "Who exactly are you?"

Viola looked at Kate but said nothing. Kate slowly turned to look at her. Castle thought he saw her smile, though it was hard to tell in the poor light.

Kate said, "An old friend of mine. A very old friend. Family, actually."

"I didn't think you had any. Your mom's dead. You old man's is somewhere god only knows."

"Viola was the only decent foster parent I had."

"When they took you away..." Viola began, but her voice faltered.

"If you were a good foster parent, why was she taken away?"

Kate answered, "There is no logic in foster care. What happens happens."

"Okay, but that doesn't explain why she's here."

Kate said, "I bought this place four years ago. Under an alias, of course. I brought Viola up to run it."

"You own this whole Inn?" said Castle in surprise.

"I had to put my money somewhere. And while I wasn't that concerned about turning a profit, I did want a place where I could get away."

"Literally get away?" said Castle.

She glanced past him to the photos on the table. "Aren't you going to ask me about them?"

"I thought I already did. I don't remember hearing an answer other than they were traitors but you had no proof."

"I walked in here with no weapon. What does that tell you?"

"That you want to talk, so talk. I especially want to hear about the apocalypse."

"It's a very long story."

"My calendar is clear for the rest of the year."

"Can you lower your weapon?"

"I don't think so."

She held out her hands. "You can cuff me if it'll make you feel better."

"Tell me what you need to tell me. Explain to me why you put a bullet in Josh Davidson when you were supposed to be planting a round between the eyes of a man who has sworn to destroy our country. Tell me why Coonan had to die. And tell me why you killed an analyst turned militia freak. I'm really looking forward to the answers. It might save your life. Might," he added.

"I told you, I didn't kill Cole Maddox. He tried to kill me and I defended myself. He died from shrapnel wounds when his house blew up."

"Why go out there at all?"

"He had something I needed."

"Yeah, you told me that in Arkansas. But what? You told me you'd already read the paper he'd written."

"Confirmation."

"Of what?"

"Of which people had seen the paper." Kate watched him expectantly. "You had figured that out. I can tell by your expression."

"You killed those people over think-tank bullshit?"

"It wasn't a think tank. And it wasn't bullshit. At least to certain people it wasn't. The paper was not widely circulated. But a few key people read it. People in a position to make the plan contained in the paper a reality. And if that happens, Castle . . ." Her voice trailed off.

He was just about to ask what specifically the paper said when they both heard it.

People were coming.

Not deer. Not squirrels. Not bears.

People. For it was only people who moved with stealth like that. And both Kate and Castle recognized the movements.

Kate snapped her head around at Castle. The accusation in her face was clear. "I didn't expect this of you, Castle. You led them right here."

In answer Castle reached behind his back, slid his spare gun out of its holster, and tossed it to her. She caught it, racked the slide, and held it loosely in her hand.

Now it was Kate's turn to look surprised.

"They're not with me," said Castle.

"Then you were followed."

He turned off the lantern, plunging the cabin into darkness. "Looks that way. I just don't know how. Is there another way out of here?"

Kate said, "Yes, there is."


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

 **Personal Note** : If you guys don't mind. Open a new tab if you can (not sure if you can on mobile) and play **Digitalism - Miami Showdown** on YouTube during the train scene in this chapter. I was listening to it while writing the chapter and it really made the scene come alive in my mind at least. Anyways enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Kate hustled towards the corner of the room, shoved the table aside, knelt down, and lifted up a section of the floor, revealing a three-foot-square opening.

"Where does that go?" asked Castle, who sounded irked that he hadn't noticed it before.

"Away from here."

She sat on her butt and dropped down into the hole. "Let's go. They won't be waiting out there long."

"Then let me persuade them they should exercise some caution," said Castle.

He moved to the window and fired five shots through it. He placed his rounds in a wide enough array that anyone approaching would be forced to take cover. Then he moved to the hole and dropped through. He stood up and motioned to Viola. "Come on."

Viola shook her head. "I'll just slow you down."

Kate stood next to Castle. "Viola, you're not staying behind."

"I'm old and just worn out, Katie."

"This is not open for discussion. Come on."

Viola slipped a revolver from the front pocket of her dress and pointed it at Kate. "You're right. This is not open for discussion, Katie. Go."

Kate looked at her in disbelief.

Castle pulled on her arm. "Not much time."

They heard footsteps approaching from all sides.

"Go!" snapped Viola. "I didn't raise you to die like this. You're going to go and finish this, Katie. Now."

Castle slung his bag over his shoulder, pulled Kate down into the hole, and then moved the piece of flooring back into place. Viola scuttled over and repositioned the table back over the opening. Then she turned to the door to face what was coming.

Castle and Kate had to crawl on their bellies. At one point in the tunnel there was a large knapsack. Kate snagged it, slung it over her shoulder, and kept crawling.

"Where does it come out?" asked Castle.

"In the woods," she whispered. Her voice was strained.

Castle knew where her mind was. On Viola. On what was about to happen to her. But maybe they wouldn't hurt the old woman.

The gunshots they both heard moments later settled that question. Barely inches behind her in the tunnel, Castle ran up the backs of Kate's legs as she stopped at the sound.

They just lay there for several seconds. Castle could hear Kate breathing fast.

"Are you okay Kate?" he finally asked. He knew it was a stupid question to ask but he did anyways.

"Let's go," she said in a husky voice, and she started crawling again.

What they heard thirty seconds later made them accelerate their movements. Other people had dropped into the tunnel. Castle and Kate whipped their bodies back and forth, performing a hyper-speed version of the Army crawl.

A minute later Kate stood, pushed against something, and then her legs disappeared from sight. Castle scrambled up after her, gained purchase on the dirt, and looked around.

They were in the middle of the forest.

The cover for the tunnel had been well designed: a fabricated tree stump made of lightweight materials.

Kate unzipped her bag, slipped out a grenade, counted to five, pulled the pin, bent down, and tossed it as far down the tunnel as she could.

Then they both ran for it, Kate in the lead because she knew where to go, Castle right behind. His gun was out and he was alternating between following Kate and covering their rear flank.

The explosion wasn't loud, but they could both hear it clearly.

"That was for Viola," Castle heard Kate say as they raced through a barely discernible path between the trees.

Up ahead was an old shack. Kate headed right for it. She unlocked the door, darted inside, and a few moments later came out, rolling a dirt bike behind her.

"I wasn't expecting company. It'll be a tight fit."

They could barely sit on the seat together. Kate drove and Castle clung to her. He was now carrying both bags over his shoulders. As they wound through the trees he was nearly thrown off several times, but just managed to maintain his seat.

Castle felt Kate trembling as she tore through the woods in a rapid pace. She probably knew this area by heart and had memorized the escape route. But she was still shaking and Castle knew why. She had just lost another parent and he didn't know how close they were but it had hurt her. And he was feeling her sorrow through her body as he squeezed her slightly to let her know that she wasn't alone. He wished he could do more but the situation on hand wasn't exactly ideal for comforting others in their time of need.

Twenty minutes later they finally hit asphalt after clearing a cleft in the trees and then a broad ditch that Kate simply jumped. They landed so hard that Castle thought he would leave his privates behind. But he gritted his teeth and clung to the woman. She rotated the throttle to maximum and roared off down the road.

"Where to?" Castle shouted in her ear as the wind whipped them both.

"Not here," she yelled back.

They drove for what seemed like hours, and finally ditched the bike behind an abandoned gas station on the outskirts of a small town. They walked into the town, which was made up of decrepit buildings and mom-and-pop stores.

The sun was starting to rise. Castle looked over at Kate, now revealed in the coming dawn. She was dirty, disheveled. As was he.

She looked straight ahead, the anger on her face almost painful to see.

"I'm sorry about Viola," said Castle somberly.

Kate didn't answer him.

A train station loomed ahead. It was just a tired-looking old brick building on a raised platform with a slender ribbon of track next to it. A few people were sitting on wooden benches waiting for their early morning ride to somewhere.

Kate went inside and paid cash for two tickets. She came back out and handed one to Castle.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Not here," she said.

"You keep saying that. But it doesn't really tell me anything."

"I'm not prepared to have this discussion yet."

"Then get prepared as soon as this ride is over," said Castle.

He walked down the platform and leaned against the wall, looking in the direction from which they had come.

 _How did they follow me? How did they know?_

There wasn't anybody. I could swear there wasn't anybody who could have known.

In his pocket was his gun. He gripped it with one hand. He had a strong feeling that things were not safe yet.

He was still holding both the bag from the tunnel and his knapsack. He glanced over at Kate. She was just standing there next to the tracks.

Castle assumed she was thinking about Viola lying dead back there.

* * *

Ten minutes later he heard the train coming. It came to a stop with a long screech of brakes and release of hydraulic pressure. He and Kate boarded the middle car.

This was not the bullet train. The car looked like it had been in service since the rail track was created in the early seventies.

They were the only passengers on this car. There was a single attendant, a sleepy-looking black man in a uniform that didn't fit him very well. He yawned, took their tickets, stuck them to the back of their seats, and told them where the café car was located if they were hungry or thirsty.

"The conductor will be along at some point to take your tickets," he said. "Enjoy the ride."

"Yeah, thanks," said Castle, while Kate just stared straight ahead.

As the train rolled out of the station the attendant walked up the aisle and disappeared into the next car, probably to make his spiel to the few passengers there.

Castle and Kate settled down in their seats, he at the window, she at the aisle. Castle had put both bags at his feet.

Minutes passed and he said, "So where are we going?"

"I've booked us through to Philly, but we can get off at any stop in between."

"What's in your bag besides grenades?"

"Things we might need."

"Who was the old guy in the photo with you?"

"Friend of a friend."

"Why not the friend?"

She glanced at him in mild reproach. "Too easy. If I'd done that, do you think they would have left the photo for you to see? They're an intelligence agency, Castle, so you have to assume they have some degree of it to exercise."

"So the friend?"

"Give me a few minutes. I'm trying to deal with the loss of another friend, maybe my last one."

Castle was about to push her, but then something told him not to.

The loss of a friend. I can relate to that.

"Did you dig that tunnel?"

She shook her head. "It was already there. Maybe bootleggers. Maybe some criminal owned it and that was his escape hatch. When I bought the place and found it I made Cabin 19 my hideaway for that very reason."

"Good thing you did."

She looked away. She obviously didn't want to talk anymore.

"You want something to eat or drink?" he asked a few minutes later as the train started to slow. They were probably approaching another station where a few more sleepy people would climb aboard.

"Coffee, nothing to eat," she said curtly, still not looking at him.

"I'll get some stuff, just in case you change your mind."

He walked up the aisle and kept going until he reached the café car. There was one person ahead of him, a woman dressed in a jean skirt, boots, and a tattered coat. She gathered up her coffee, pastries, and a bag of chips and headed on her way. She stumbled as the train slid into the station and stopped.

Castle helped adjust her and then stepped up to the counter. The uniformed man behind it was about sixty with a full gray beard and small narrow eyes behind thick glasses.

"What can I get you, sir?" he asked Castle.

Castle looked at the offerings on the menu board behind the counter. "Two coffees, two muffins, and three packs of peanuts."

"Just brewing a fresh pot. Coming up."

"No hurry." Castle turned and looked out the window. This station looked even smaller than the one at which they had boarded. He couldn't even see the name of the place, although he assumed it had to be posted somewhere.

The next moment he forgot about that.

At the far side of the station, its bumper hanging out just far enough that he could see it, was a black Range Rover.

Castle looked at the few passengers getting on. One was an old woman carrying her belongings in a pillowcase.

Another was a teenage girl with a battered suitcase.

The last passenger was a black man in his forties. He was dressed in not overly clean bib overalls and falling-apart work boots, and he had a dirty knapsack slung over one shoulder.

Castle did not like to assume, but none of the new passengers looked like patrons of the Range Rover brand.

When the man behind the counter turned to him with two fresh cups of coffee, Castle was gone.

With his gun on his right hand, Castle reentered the train car. He looked down the aisle. Kate was still in her seat, but she looked stiff, unnatural.

Castle looked around. He saw no obvious breach points.

He looked back at Kate, squatted low, and moved forward, prepared to fire in an instant. He cleared each row of seats until he got to Kate and looked up at her.

Only it wasn't her.

It was a man.

With his throat cut.

Castle glanced down. Her bag was gone.

Where was Kate?

A voice called out softly, "Castle, over here."

He glanced up. Kate was at the rear of the train car.

"We have company," she said.

"Yeah, that one I'd figured out," replied Castle. "Where did he come from?" he asked, gesturing to the dead man.

"Rear door. Advance guard, I guess."

"They should have sent more guards," noted Castle.

"He was tough to kill. Very well trained."

"I'm sure." Castle looked around. "The train's not moving. Station's not that big. All passengers should have gotten on by now."

"You think they've commandeered the train?"

"Wouldn't bet against it. They'll do a car-by-car search."

"The dead guy was trying to call in that he'd spotted me. But he never made it." She looked around. "Got a plan?"

Before Castle could answer the train started to move.

"What do you think that's about?" asked Kate.

"Too many questions in the station, maybe. They want to be rolling through the country when they hit us."

"Toss us out on the fly?"

"After they make sure we're dead."

"So, again, got a plan?"

Castle looked behind him. The attendant who had greeted them hadn't come back. He might be dead too.

Castle raced up the aisle to a small storage closet located at one end of the car and grabbed a large metal bowl from inside it. He rushed into the small bathroom compartment, turned on the water, and filled up the bowl. Then he emptied half the bowl of water in front of each of the connecting doors into their train cars. He rubbed the slickened metal floor with his foot and came away satisfied.

Then Castle looked at the dead man.

Kate joined him and said, "He had no creds. No ID, nothing."

"Missing personnel, missing equipment."

"Is that what Montgomery told you?" asked Kate.

"Yes."

"The apocalypse scenario has been a long time in preparation, Castle."

"I'm starting to see that."

He climbed up on a seat and squatted down.

Kate did the same.

"You left, me right," said Castle, and Kate replied, "Copy that."

A few seconds later armed men came racing in from both directions. It was a designed pincers move, to trap Kate and Castle between two flanks and catch them in a crossfire they could not withstand.

Only they had not counted on a slippery floor.

Three of the men went down hard and slid along the floor, while a fourth staggered around trying to regain his balance.

Kate and Castle popped out from the hidden spots and opened fire, Castle right, Kate left. Nine seconds later four men lay dead, their blood turning the floor and walls crimson. The other men retreated to the cars bracketing this one.

Castle looked at Kate. "How fast do you think we're going?"

She looked out the window. "Fifty, maybe a little more. These old bangers don't get much above sixty."

Castle looked at the terrain outside. All trees. "Still too fast," he said, and Kate nodded.

Castle glanced to his left and then back at her. "Where's your bag?"

"I stashed it here." She pulled it out from between two of the seats.

"Got any flash-bangs in there?"

"Two of them."

He looked at one of the connecting doors between the cars through which the men had retreated. It was metal but with a glass window. Then he ran over to a control panel built into one wall in the car's vestibule. He ripped it open and took a few seconds to see what was available.

While he was doing that Kate snagged both flash-bangs from her bag.

"You ever jumped off a moving train before?" he asked, looking up from his work.

"No. You?"

He shook his head. "I figure at sixty, we have no chance. At thirty our odds improve some."

"Depends on what we jump into," said Kate, who was already clicking keys on her phone. She brought up their current location.

"Body of water coming up on the left in about two miles."

"Could be harder than dirt depending on how we hit."

"We stay here we die."

Castle hit a button and the left-side door slid open. Cool air rushed in.

"They won't be waiting long," said Kate, looking at each doorway.

"No. We need to take care of that."

She handed him a pair of earplugs, which he pushed deeply into his ears. She did the same with her ears. Then she passed him one of the flash-bangs.

"Give me a countdown," she said.

Kate went to the middle of the car, drew her pistol, and waited.

"Five-four-three-two-one" called out Castle.

Kate fired to the left, shattering the glass on the door leading to the train car in front of them. She gripped the flash-bang, engaged it, and threw it through the opening. She whirled and shot out the glass in the window to the rear. The bullet was followed by the second flash-bang, which Castle tossed through the new opening. Castle crouched down and covered his face and his ears as both flash-bangs detonated within seconds of each other.

Screams came from the other train cars.

Kate, who had ducked down a split second before the flash-bangs went off, raced back down the aisle and joined Castle.

He engaged the emergency braking system. They were thrown forward as the train's brakes caught. They righted themselves, faced the open door, and looked at each other. They were both breathing hard.

"How fast are we going?" Kate asked.

"Still too fast."

He glanced out the door. "Water's coming up."

The train was slowing, yet it took a long time for something that big to reduce its speed. But they were out of time.

Shots were starting to rip through the train car as their opponents recovered.

"Gotta go." Castle gripped her hand as the train slowed even more.

"Castle, I don't think I can do this."

"Don't think, just do."

"No…I can't."

"Kate listen to me. It's going to be okay," said Castle squeezing her hand in assurance. He locked eyes with her and he saw a sense of fear in them. He touched her face slightly and moved forward touching her forehead with his.

They jumped together.

It seemed to Castle that they stayed in the air a long time. When they landed, they hit soft mud, not water. The one thing they couldn't have accounted for was a summer drought that had extended into fall and had lowered the lake's water level by about four feet. When they hit the wet dirt, Castle and Kate rolled and tumbled along about twenty feet past their first impact.

The train was already out of sight around a bend. But at some point the brakes would bring the million-pound-plus behemoth to a stop.

Castle slowly sat up. He was covered in mud and slime. His clothes were ripped and he felt like an entire NFL team had jumped on him.

He looked over at Kate, who was starting to slowly get up. She looked as bad as he did and probably felt worse. Her pants and shirt were torn too.

Castle managed to stand and stagger over to the knapsack, which had separated from him on impact.

Kate groaned. "Next time I'm staying and just shooting it out."

Castle nodded. There was a pain in his right arm. It felt funny. He worried that he had broken it, but it didn't feel broken, just...funny.

As Kate walked over to him he rolled up his shirtsleeve, exposing his burn.

What he saw surprised Castle. But it also solved the question of how the people had been able to follow them.

Castle looked at Kate and smiled grimly.

"What?" she said.

"They just made a big mistake."


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer:** This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

Vulcan Simmons was home when the call came in.

"Believed to be dead," said the voice.

Castle and Kate had jumped off a train going nearly forty miles per hour. It was thought unlikely that they could have survived.

The fail-safe tracker had gone silent.

It was over.

Simmons didn't believe that for a second. But he had confirmation that his greatest fear had been realized.

Castle and Kate had teamed up. And despite the report, his gut was telling him that they were alive.

Simmons was sitting in his study in his exquisite home set among many exquisite homes in a section of Fairfax County that was home to the unassailable "one-percent," the people in the top one-tenth of the one percent. Average income per year: ten million dollars. Most of them made far more than that. They did it in myriad ways:

Inheritance.

Gaining the ear, for a fee, of those in power.

And many, like Simmons, actually worked hard for a living and provided things of value to the world. Though his wife's money had certainly come in handy.

Now Simmons sat in his castle and contemplated the phone call he was about to make. It was to someone of whom he was understandably afraid.

His secure phone was in his desk drawer. He pulled it out, hit the required numbers, and waited.

Four rings and a pickup. Simmons winced when he realized it was the person and not a recording. He had been hoping for a bit of a reprieve.

He reported the latest news in terse, information-packed sentences, just as he had been trained to do.

And then he waited.

He could hear the other person breathing lightly on the other end of a communication line that not even the NSA could crack.

Simmons did not break the silence. It wasn't his place.

He just let the man breathe, take it in, think. The response would be forthcoming, he was certain of that.

"Has a search been made?" asked the person. "If they're believed dead, there have to be bodies. That will be the only confirmation. Otherwise, they're alive."

"Agreed," said Simmons, who let out a nearly inaudible sigh of relief. "I personally don't think they're dead."

"But injured?"

"After that sort of a jump, most likely yes."

"Then we have to find them. Shouldn't be too difficult if they are hurt."

"Yes."

"Cleanup on the train?"

"The train was stopped. Everything has been removed. All witnesses have been dealt with."

"Explanation?"

"We can place the blame on whomever we want."

"Well, I would place it on two rogue agents who have obviously lost their way. That will be the official line."

"Understood."

"It's still an enormous mess. And one that should have been avoided."

"I agree."

"I didn't ask for your agreement."

"No, of course not."

"But we're near the end."

"Yes," said Simmons.

"So don't create any more obstacles."

"Understood."

"Castle and Kate together. A cause for concern."

Simmons didn't know if the person was asking a question or stating a fact.

"I would not underestimate either of them," said Simmons.

"I never underestimate anyone, least of all my allies."

Simmons licked his lips, considered this statement. He was an ally. And this person would not underestimate him. "We'll make a major push."

"Yes, you will."

The line went dead.

Simmons put the phone away and looked up when the door to his study opened. For one panicked moment he thought his time had come and the open door would reveal a person like Castle or Kate dispatched to give him his final punishment.

But it was simply his wife. She was in her nightgown.

Simmons gaze flicked to the wall above the door where the clock showed it was nearly eight in the morning.

"Did you even go to bed?" she asked. Her hair was tousled, her face bare of makeup, her eyes still weighted with sleep. But to Simmons she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

He was lucky. He had never deserved a life of simple domesticity. But that was only half his life. His other half was decidedly different. Equal parts perfume and gunpowder. But right now, all gunpowder.

"Grabbed a few hours in the guest room. Didn't want to disturb you, honey," he said. "I finished up work late."

She went to him, perched on the side of his desk, ran her fingers through his hair.

Their kids looked more like their mother. That was good, thought Simmons. He wanted them to be like her. Not him.

Not me. Not my life.

He wanted his children to have exceptional lives. But also ordinary ones. Safe ones. Ones that did not involve carrying weapons or shooting others while being shot at. That was no life. Just a way to an early death.

"You look tired," said his wife.

"A little. Burning the candles at both ends lately. Things will even out."

"I'll go make you some coffee."

"Thanks, sweetie. That would be great."

She kissed him on the forehead and left.

Simmons watched her go every step of the way.

He had a lot.

Which meant he had a lot to lose.

He looked around his study. None of his awards, his military medals, his records of professional accomplishments were displayed here. Those things were private. They were not meant to impress or intimidate. He knew he had earned them. That was enough. They were kept upstairs in a small, locked storage closet. Sometimes he would look at them. But mostly they just sat up there gathering dust.

Simmons had always been a forward thinker.

He unlocked a safe that sat on a shelf behind his desk and drew the paper out. It was Cole Maddox's white paper. A thing of intellectual beauty from a man who had become a paranoid militia nut. It was hard to believe that he could have concocted something that powerful. But perhaps from the forming depths of paranoia sometimes sprang genius, if for only a few frenetically productive moments.

Yet they had taken his original vision and turned it into something very different that suited their own purposes.

He walked over to the gas fireplace set against one wall. With a flick of a remote that he kept on the mantel, Simmons turned on the fireplace. Then he dropped the white paper on top of the gas logs and watched it quickly disintegrate.

In less than thirty seconds it was gone.

But the ideas in there would remain with Simmons for the rest of his life.

Whether that was to be a short or long time he couldn't tell right now.

He was suddenly beset with doubts. His mind raced ahead to one catastrophic scenario after another. Such thoughts were never productive. But finally his military training took over and he calmed rapidly.

His secure phone, still on the desk, buzzed.

He hurried over to it.

The message was from the person with whom he had just talked.

It was a text. It was only three words.

But to Simmons it proved his superior was indeed a mind reader.

The text read, _No going back_

* * *

The car was parked by the curb of a grill pub across from a bank. It was late, the darkness deep and broken only by the exterior light of the building.

There were only four other cars in the parking lot. One car's lights came on as the owner hit the unlock button on her key fob.

She walked toward the car, staggering slightly. She had had more to drink than she probably should have. But she lived close by and was confident she could navigate the roads to her home safely.

She climbed into the car and closed the door behind her. She started to put the key in the ignition when a hand clamped over her mouth.

Her right hand went to her purse, to retrieve the pistol she kept there. But another hand encircled her wrist and held it inches from the purse.

The passenger door opened and the woman climbed in.

She had her gun pointed at the driver's head.

The woman with the gun was Katherine Beckett.

The woman in the driver's seat did not seem to recognize her. She started, though, when the man's voice from the backseat said, "I might need you to sew me up, Doc. The tracking device in the muscles got broken."

In the rearview mirror Dr. Meredith looked at Richard Castle. Before Dr. Lanie Parish, Dr. Meredith was the one that usually treated him and Kate after missions.

He said, "Start the car. Then we'll tell you where to go."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," said Meredith.

Kate pulled the hammer back on her gun.

"Then she's going to put a bullet in your head right now," said Castle.

Meredith glanced at Kate, who was staring directly at her. The look in the woman's features was clear. She wanted to pull the trigger. She was hoping for any chance, any opportunity provided by Meredith, to do so.

Meredith started the car, put it in gear, and drove off. Castle directed her to a run-down motel about five miles away. They parked in the rear and Kate and Castle bookended Meredith as they walked to their room.

Castle closed the door behind them and directed Meredith to sit on the bed.

She stared up at them. "I don't know why you're doing this, Castle. You're in a lot of trouble. You've kidnapped me at gunpoint."

Castle sat in a chair and seemed not to have heard her. Kate stood with her back to the door and her gun pointed at her.

Meredith snapped, "Who the hell are you?"

"You know who she is," said Castle calmly.

Meredith turned to look at him.

"And you might want to watch your drinking and driving," noted Castle. "Two beers and a shot of tequila. You're officially shit-faced. That could cost you your clearance and your job."

"You were watching me?"

"No, we just happened on you by accident. I feel so lucky right now, I'm going to play the Lotto."

"You're cracking jokes?" she snapped. "Do you realize what you've done? You're going to prison for this."

"Is that the same bar where you met Cole Maddox?" Castle asked.

"I never met Cole Maddox at a bar. He was briefly a patient of mine. I already told you that."

"You want to reconsider that answer?"

"Why should I?"

Castle slipped a photo from his pocket. "I had a friend at the FBI pull this off the surveillance camera from the bank across the street from the bar."

He held it up. On the image were Cole Maddox and Meredith getting into her car.

"I've done nothing wrong. So I had a drink with Cole Maddox. So what?"

Castle slipped off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeve, revealing where the tracking devices had been. They had been there for a while now and Castle had no idea.

"I took out these and the ones you put in my leg. Pretty ingenious stuff. Communication filaments and an internal power source disguised basically as stitches. GPS locator. Satellite up- and downlink. Probably electronically lit me up like the Eiffel Tower at night. The agency has really made great strides in the surveillance business."

Meredith looked at Kate. "Castle, if that is Katherine Beckett you should be arresting her. Or killing her. She's the enemy. Not me."

"Who told you to put those sutures in me?" asked Castle. "Vulcan Simmons?"

Meredith made no reaction to this.

"John Raglan," said Kate.

Again, no reaction from Meredith. She kept her gaze on the far wall.

"Somebody else up high," Castle barked.

Now, there was the barest of flinches from Meredith. But it was enough.

She must have realized that she had given herself away. She looked at Castle with an ugly expression. "You have no chance."

"I was about to say the same thing to you."

This came from Kate, who had placed her muzzle against the back of Meredith's head.

The doctor looked at Castle with pleading eyes. "You're just going to let her murder me?"

Kate's look was impassive. "I don't know, Doc. People have been trying to murder us. Why should you be any different?"

"But...but you're one of us."

"One of us? I don't really know what that means anymore."

"Please, Castle, please."

"I'm not sure what to do with you, Doc. Can't really let you go."

Meredith was crying now. "I won't say anything. I swear to God."

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Castle.

He glanced at Kate. "What do you think?"

Meredith shrieked, "Don't ask her! She's crazy! She's a traitor!"

Kate looked at Castle. "Okay?"

"Okay by me."

"No!" screamed Meredith.

Kate dropped her muzzle to the base of Meredith's neck and pulled the trigger

* * *

Castle carried Meredith over his shoulder and down the steps into the bomb shelter. They were under the barn at his hideaway. At the far end of the underground shelter was a makeshift cell that Castle had constructed. It was easily strong enough to hold someone like Meredith.

She was starting to come around after Kate had shot her in the neck with a tranquilizer dart.

Castle lay Meredith down on a cot in the cell. Stacked against one wall were enough provisions to last the woman two weeks. Castle assumed that by then he would have worked things out or else died trying.

He locked the cell door about the time that Meredith slowly sat up, rubbed her neck, and looked at him. "You didn't let her kill me?"

"We never had any intention of killing you."

"Why not?"

"You may be corrupt, but you were defenseless."

"You're an assassin, that's what you do."

"Did you read the apocalypse paper?"

"The what?"

"The white paper that Cole Maddox wrote. Kate told me he used to brag about it to people. Maybe you were one of them. Over pillow talk? At the bar?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"Did you believe it?"

"Cole talked about a lot of things. And many of them made sense."

"So you're for an apocalypse?"

"For real change to happen, certain people have to be sacrificed."

"Wasn't that what the Nazis said?"

She snapped, "Don't be ridiculous. That's not even a close analogy."

"Really? You got led around like a lemming by a nut who loaded up his cabin with explosives and had plans to blow up half the government? How does that make sense? You work for the government."

"We all fight for liberty in different ways."

"I'll stick with my way. You can keep yours."

"You go and kill the people they tell you to. Talk about a follower."

"Well, the difference is now I understand that. You apparently don't."

She gave him a condescending look. "You can't stop this from happening."

"I can if you help me."

"Not a chance in hell."

"So you just stand by and watch all those people die? Doctors are supposed to preserve life, aren't they?"

"I'm not just a doctor. I care about my country. Our enemies are trying to destroy us. We have to kill all of them first."

Castle said, "Care to tell me who is really behind this?"

She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him dully. "Just give it up, okay?"

He held up her phone. "Got your laptop too. They should tell us a few things."

She looked suddenly panicked.

"Don't ever go to Vegas," he advised. "Your poker face is seriously lacking."

"They're password-protected."

"You had your phone on a five-minute auto lock. You must have just used it before you got into the car. The lock hadn't reset yet, so I got everything I needed. As for your laptop, next time use a password more difficult than your name spelled backwards and your date of birth."

"Castle, you're on the wrong side of this. Trust me. Kate is a murderer. She killed two defenseless men. In cold blood."

He pointed to the provisions. "There's enough food and water to last you at least two weeks, maybe more if you ration."

"And if you're not back by then?"

"Start yelling. Somebody might hear you. Oh, and while you were knocked out Kate stripped you down and checked every possible place for a transmitter. You might be sore, but you're definitely tracker free."

"Castle!" She jumped up and ran to the cell door. "Think about this very carefully. You won't get a second chance."

"Funny. That's what I was going to tell you."

"You're being stupid. Please let me go."

"This is the safest place for you."

She looked at him with a stunned expression. "Safe? Are you insane?"

"They didn't find our bodies, Doc. And they can no longer track us. Which tells them we're onto how we were tracked. You put the trackers in. We found you. You're out of the loop for a while. If we let you go, you go back to them."

"I won't say anything. I promise."

"That's not the point."

"So what is the point?"

"They'll know you were with us. They'll interrogate you. And then they'll kill you."

Meredith took a step back. "Why would they kill me? I'm on their side."

"Because they'll believe you helped us. That would be the only way we would've let you go. And your price for that is you die. It's really that simple. See, to them, you'll have become the enemy. And like you said, the goal is to kill all of the enemy. And now that includes you."

"But—"

"It's not an either/or proposition. So you stay here, you live. You go out there, you die. I'll let you decide. What's it going to be?"

Meredith stared up at him and then took a few hesitant steps back before plopping down on the cot and studying the floor.

"Good choice," said Castle, and then he walked out.

Kate was waiting for him outside the barn in a new rental car. He climbed in, snagged Meredith's laptop from the backseat, opened it, and started clicking keys as Kate drove off.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"I think she's starting to see the light. Not that it matters."

"Just so you know, I'm down to my last fake ID," said Kate.

"Let's hope it's enough."

"Where to?"

"I've got a contact at the FBI I want to work. I got the photos of Maddox and Meredith from her."

"Special Agent Jordan Shaw?"

Castle shot her a glance. "How did you know that?"

"You started out as my enemy. I find out all I can about my enemies."

"How much did you find out?"

"Alexis Rodgers."

She looked at him.

"That makes you angry?"

"It doesn't make me happy. What if someone was following you?"

"Someone was following you. Shaw. And me."

"Okay, let's just call a truce on that. We need some info that we can't get on our own."

She said, "Don't be too sure about that. And the more people we involve, the more potential pitfalls we face."

"We face pitfalls everywhere we turn."

"Proves my point. What do we need to know?"

"Lots of things."

"Find anything interesting on Meredith's computer?"

"I got into her email. She has a varied correspondence. Multiple boyfriends, from the content of some of the emails. A little racier than I would have given the doc credit for. Maddox was probably one of them, but he's not on there now." He refocused on the screen. "This might be something."

"What?"

"Give me a sec."

He read some more emails, scrolling down the screen.

"What is it, Castle?"

"Cryptic one-word messages. Without context they don't mean anything. 'Yes,' 'no,' 'now,' 'tomorrow'—things like that."

"Who's the sender?"

"The address looks generic, and is probably untraceable. But there are three letters at the end of the messages, like the writer's signature. JTW. Mean anything to you?"

Kate was silent for a long minute. "Jackie the Westie," she said.

"Who?"

"It was the code name of the person Maddox said had requested the white paper. He said the person was at least five levels above him at the time."

"Did he say anything else that might lead us to the person?"

"Unfortunately, that was about the time I had to knock him out."

"Jackie the Westie? Odd nickname."

"I thought so too. But he's been able to dodge us pretty effectively. So it does fit. What do you think Shaw can help us with?"

"Finding the apocalypse. Before it happens."

"Linchpin was pretty explicit. Country by country. Leader by leader. Simultaneously. It's dazzlingly complex and brutally efficient. It's all in the timing."

"But what are the exact details? You never said."

"Targeting all G8 leaders, except the U.S. president, on the same day at the same time using a coordinated attack, and intelligence–sharing, and buying whatever resources are needed on the inside. They're all killed. What follows is chaos in the civilized world. The paper goes on to detail what steps the perpetrators of the attacks should take to press their advantage."

"Okay, but who are the perpetrators?"

"Maddox papered various ones. Not surprisingly, they were mostly radical fundamentalists. He broke it down to include factions of al-Qaeda, the Taliban, Hamas, and even the goddamn KKK. I have to admit, it was well thought out."

"Why leave out the U.S. president?" asked Castle.

"Probably because the agency didn't want to pay its people to think up plausible ways to kill POTUS. If that got out there would be hell to pay."

"And what was the purpose of such an attack, at least according to Maddox?"

"Power vacuum in the civilized world, chaos in financial markets, and upheaval across the globe, 9/11 on steroids."

"And why would we want a paper out there that tells people how to do that?"

"They probably didn't believe it would be circulated. And maybe they wanted to see the scenario to know how to counter it so it didn't happen or deal with it if it ever did. Cole Maddox wasn't too clear on that."

"Did we come up with counters?"

"I doubt it. The paper apparently didn't go anywhere within the agency hierarchy."

"You know what that strategy reminds me of?" said Castle.

"What?"

"The scene in The Godfather. Where Michael Corleone is having his child baptized. And then they intercut to the scenes of the rival bosses who tried to kill Marlon Brando's character being assassinated. It was Michael's revenge."

"Maybe that's where Maddox got the idea. From a movie. He didn't strike me as an original thinker."

"But for it to work they have to have personnel in all those different countries ready to move at the same time."

"So who on the inside of the U.S. government would want to see that scenario played out?" asked Kate.

"I would hope no one. But that apparently isn't the case."

"So America gets thrown into the apocalypse. In a scenario like that, nobody wins."

They were both silent for a while, each probably contemplating what the world might look like after such an event.

"Feeling pretty hopeless?" asked Kate.

"Aren't you?"

"I've never forgotten one thing. It might seem stupid to you."

"I'm listening."

"There is always hope in hopeless. And there is always a chance."

They exchanged a brief smile.

"Tell me something. Who was the friend of the friend?"

Kate looked away. Castle saw her fingers tighten on the steering wheel but she didn't answer.

"The guy in the photo with you. You said he was a friend of a friend because putting the other guy in there would guarantee I never would have gotten the picture."

"Why do you need to know who he is?"

"If you didn't want me to know, why leave the photo in the locker?"

"Maybe I didn't have a reason."

"You told me there is a reason for everything you do."

A minute later Kate said, "The friend was a mentor. A guy who cared about me way back when. When no one else did."

"How did you know him?"

"I just knew him."

"Witness Protection, maybe?"

She glanced at him in surprise.

"Montgomery told me about your past."

"But that's still a big deductive leap."

"The guy in the photo looked like a retired cop to me. So maybe his friend was a cop too."

Kate slowed the car and pulled off the road, putting it in park and turning to look at Castle.

"His name was Mike Royce well. He was a U.S. marshal. And you're right, he looked after me when I was in Witness Protection. When I joined CIA, I kept in touch. He retired a number of years ago. But after that he stumbled onto what they were planning."

"How was that possible?"

"Royce knew Vulcan Simmons from way back. They served in Vietnam together. He even went to Simmons wedding. Simmons approached him about some things over time, harmless things, but taken together it made Royce suspicious. But he played along and learned more. I guess Simmons trusted him, and when he believed Royce wanted to be part of the plan he told him more. Then Simmons found Royce was actually working against him, collecting evidence. So he had him killed, although his death was officially ruled an accident. But I knew better."

Castle said, "I'm sorry about that. Sounds like Royce was really trying to do the right thing."

She nodded. "He was able to get me the list of people and some details about what was going on. That's how I got Josh's and Coonan's names. That's why I killed them."

"But if Royce had enough info to put together a list, why not go to the cops?"

"The people on that list were pretty powerful and he apparently didn't believe he had enough evidence to convince the authorities. Royce knew what he was doing. He was a real pro. He wanted a slam dunk case, apparently. He just didn't live to get it."

"Yet you had enough belief in Royce to kill two of them and try and take down a third."

"I know what they're planning to do, Castle. I know that they killed him. He was a good, decent guy trying to do the right thing. He could have been enjoying his golden years, but he was trying to bring this scum down. He failed. I won't."

"I hope you're right."

"You had your proof on that train, didn't you? And what Meredith told you? Don't tell me you need more convincing."

"It's complicated."

"So you're telling me you wouldn't have taken out these guys given the chance? You know that if our agency knew what was up we would have been sent to put a bullet in their brains. I just didn't wait for orders."

"We have a justice system complete with judges and jails for things like that."

"You really think these guys would have been charged, much less convicted? There is no way a case could have been made against them. No way."

"Which means under our system they're presumed innocent."

"So was everybody we've ever pulled the trigger on, because none of them had the benefit of a trial."

Castle sat back. She was absolutely right about that, he thought. "Talk to me about Judge Simmons. He served in Vietnam. What else?"

"I researched him. Got into databases I probably shouldn't have."

"And found what?"

"He used to be one of us, way back when. After he left the Army."

Castle slowly nodded. "That makes sense, actually."

She continued, "And now he's a judge on DAA."

"Who else besides Josh and Coonan?"

"Congressman John Raglan was also on the list."

"Chairman of House Intelligence?"

"Yep."

"Is that the complete list?"

"No. There's somebody else out there. Somebody else that even Royce couldn't uncover. But he's out there. I know he is. And he's highly placed, Castle. Very highly placed."

"At least three levels above our boy Maddox?"

"I think far more than three. I think that was just a subterfuge."

"Jackie the Westie."

"Could be. I certainly don't think it was Coonan. He's dead but this thing is still going full torque."

Castle looked up ahead. "So let's see what we can do."

Kate drove off.

* * *

William Bracken looked across from the width of his substantial desk at the woman who sat there. Vitoria Gates features were haggard, her clothes not nearly as impeccable as they normally were.

"It's a total screwup," snapped Bracken.

"Yes, it is," agreed Gates.

"Castle's gone off the grid. Beckett is God knows where. This event on the train? I know it has something to do with them. I know it."

"There's no proof of that. No witnesses."

"Because they killed them," exclaimed Bracken.

"There is something else going on here," said Gates.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Montgomery?"

"Old news."

"I disagree. Firmly."

Bracken sat up in his chair. There was a dangerous look in his eyes. "Based on what?"

"Based on reality, sir."

"You're very close to insubordination, Gates."

"That of course is not my intent. But we still don't know about Montgomery. Why DHS took him. Why he was attacked. We do know that Castle saved his life. That's very telling."

"And he believed that Katherine Beckett was also there. Also saving Montgomery's life."

"Correct."

"But we only have his word for that."

"The shell casings were there, sir. You can't get around that."

Bracken put his fingers together and stared at the ceiling. "Beckett murdered two of my people. Castle has gone underground. For all we know he's teamed up with the woman somehow. That means he's joined a killer."

"They're both killers, sir. They've been deployed in the field for years eliminating people."

"Killing our enemies, Gates."

"Maybe they're still killing our enemies."

"You will never get me to believe that Coonan had been turned. It would have been impossible. He wasn't even in the field, for Godsakes. No one could have approached him."

"I don't think anything is impossible. We've certainly seen that. Men in high office who ruined careers and jeopardized legacies because of an affair."

"I'm very happily married, thank you very much."

"I'm sure, sir."

"And we're not talking about a romp in the bed here. How could Josh and Coonan have been turned? Do you have an ounce of proof?"

Gates shrugged. "The only proof I have is that I know Richard Castle. And I would trust him with my life. I have trusted him with my life. He has sacrificed everything for his country."

"Do you know what you're saying?" Bracken's voice became vocal. "If they could turn the number two man in our agency?"

"I clearly understand the ramifications, sir. And any such conspiracy may have spread farther than here. In fact, it may have its origins elsewhere."

"Castle conveyed to me some of what Montgomery told him."

"I would be glad to hear it."

"Missing personnel. Missing equipment. And money. Missions that never should have been. I have people looking into it. But it's troubling, Gates. Very troubling."

"It would be nice to hear it from Montgomery's lips," said Gates.

Bracken fiddled with a pen on his desk and made no response.

"Sir?" said Gates. "Did you hear what I said?"

"It would be nice to hear it from Montgomery's lips," Bracken said. "The problem is he took a turn for the worse, is currently in an induced coma, and is not expected to live." He glanced up. "I pushed hard at DHS and finally got them to listen to me. We're now providing his protection along with the FBI. Had to go all the way to the APNSA."

"Perlmutter?"

Bracken nodded. "Perlmutter sided with me. Which meant the president sided with me. Which means I saw Roy." He paused. "It really doesn't look good for him, Gates."

Gates looked down. "I'm very sorry to hear that. He's been a great asset to the agency."

"We seem to be running out of those."

"A few bad apples, nothing more."

"I do care about my people, you know."

"Yes, sir."

Bracken doodled on a piece of paper. "Where do you think Castle is?"

"He's certainly gone off the grid." Gates paused, seeming to choose her next words with great care. "In fact, I was the one who encouraged him to do so."

Bracken looked stunned. "You advised him to go off the grid?"

"I also advised him to find Katherine Beckett."

"His initial task was to do that," snapped Bracken.

"I didn't mean to find and kill her. I meant to find her and thank her for saving his life. And then to team up."

Bracken's face turned red and a vein near his temple swelled. "Team up to do what exactly?" he barked.

"To do what needs to be done. There is something going on, sir. I realized it even before Josh and Coonan were killed. We've had infiltrations at the agency. Castle knew this too. Trusted people who it turned out were working against us."

"We believed that to be isolated. And resolved, Victoria," Bracken said in a calmer tone.

"Maybe we believed wrong."

"So you're saying it's something more than a few bad apples, then?"

"Conspiracies are supposed to be relegated to popular fiction. However, it's surprising and a little distressing how often they show up in real life."

Bracken suddenly looked tired. "We are ill-equipped to handle broad-based conspiracies, Gates. Particularly from inside our own tent."

"Which is why perhaps Castle and Kate have a shot at this. By working from the outside in."

"If they do that, we have no way of deploying assets on their behalf. They're on their own."

"With all due respect, sir, that's exactly how they've been operating their whole careers here. On their own with no cover, no backup."

"So maybe they're ideally suited to crack this thing," Bracken said slowly.

"I wouldn't bet against them," said Gates with confidence.

"So you really think Coonan and Josh were traitors to their country?"

"I can't say they're not."

"And there are others?"

Gates shrugged. "Things are still happening and Josh and Coonan are dead. They could have had nothing to do with the attack on Montgomery."

"What about the attack on Cole Maddox in Arkansas? What was that about?"

"I don't know, sir. But from the carnage I wouldn't discount the possibility that both Beckett and Castle were there."

"What could possibly be the connection? I've looked at Maddox's record. He was a nothing. Hardly left a mark here. And then he was canned for what amounted to being stupid and lax with security measures. Do you think Beckett and Castle know of some connection?"

"If they don't I think they can find out."

Bracken sat back, looking doubtful. "I hope you're right."

"Me too," said Gates under her breath. "Me too."


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

"Hello, Congressman," said the woman as she walked past, her small dog straining on a leash in front of her. "I saw you on TV the other night."

John Raglan stood on a path at the park near his home. He was dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt, loafers and no socks. He had put on a light windbreaker because the evening skies promised rain. He held a leash with his big Labrador Dodger tethered to the other end.

He nodded and smiled at the pretty woman as she walked past. "Thanks. Have a good evening," he said. He liked being recognized. It was a nice taste of celebrity that fed his ego.

He watched her go, appreciating her tall, slender figure, tight skirt, and the way her blonde hair swirled around her shoulders. He was very comfortable with his wife, but he had never been able to cure himself of his roaming eye. And his high position in Washington made him a plum target for a variety of sophisticated, accomplished, and attractive women.

He sighed contentedly. Not a bad life. He was wealthy from his past business successes, in relatively good health, with many years in politics ahead of him. His wife was suitably supportive but not eager to grab the limelight from him. She didn't often travel with him, which allowed him the latitude for the occasional dalliance in his hotel room with a young staffer.

His children were young and well behaved. They would have good lives. They looked up to their father. He was popular with his district and his district had been redrawn to make him election-proof. That allowed him to spend less time fund-raising and more time plotting his political aspirations. Yes, all in all, he led quite a satisfactory life.

There was only one major problem, but it overshadowed all of the positives. He had long since regretted becoming a part of a plan that was spiraling out of control. But his position as chairman of the Intelligence Committee had made him a pivotal player in a scheme so grand it had taken Raglan's breath away the first time he was approached about it.

He was an old-school believer in national security. Nothing trumped that. He had been in New York during 9/11 and had seen the towers collapse. He had run along the streets with thousands of other terrified people as the dust and debris and bodies rained down. He had told himself never again would something like that happen to his country. Not if he had anything to say about it. And he did, more than most people.

And that was why he'd agreed to be part of this colossal plan that, if successful, would right the power balance in the world, bringing it back to where it needed to be to create global peace. He'd thought it a huge, perhaps career-ending risk, but a goal well worth that risk. He had worked behind the scenes to secretly authorize the movement of personnel, equipment, and funds to enable this to happen. Just about everything the Intelligence Committee did was secret, from the funds deployed to the operations on which the members were briefed. Thus he had been in a unique place to assist the plan. He had felt honored to be part of it. He had felt immensely patriotic, particularly as he watched brave young Americans die every week in foreign lands, many of them killed by the very people they were fighting to protect and training to defend themselves. It was a horrendous situation that couldn't be allowed to continue.

But things hadn't gone smoothly or cleanly. Problems had cropped up almost immediately. His partners in this venture, principally Vulcan Simmons, had handled these far better than he had. They were used to mistakes resulting in the loss of human life. But Simmons was not accustomed to such things. They scared him. And the more they occurred, the more scared he became.

He had come to the park tonight to walk his dog simply to get away from these thoughts, if only for a few minutes. But he couldn't escape them, not even with big, happy-faced Labrador licking his hand and wanting to play.

Raglan was especially afraid of Simmons. When the man had said he'd killed a potential assassin, Raglan knew that the man was not exaggerating. He had killed the man. And it had been a clear warning to Raglan not to step out of line.

He had no intention of crossing such men. He'd seen what they were capable of doing. As the chair of the Intelligence Committee he was far more privy to clandestine operations than the average congressperson.

He knew about the Special Activities Division within CIA that utilized the resources provided by people like Katherine Beckett and Richard Castle. He knew how skilled they were at their work. He'd been briefed on their missions. He'd seen photos of the bodies that resulted from those missions.

His phone buzzed.

He looked at the screen and groaned. It was him.

He hesitated, thinking he wouldn't answer, but he did. He was afraid not to.

But then his courage bucked up.

He was the chairman of one of the most powerful committees in Washington. He had leverage. He had strength. He could play hardball with these folks.

He clicked the button.

"Hello?"

Vulcan Simmons said, "We need to meet."

"Why?"

"You've seen the story about the train?"

"What about it?"

"It was Beckett and Castle."

"How?"

"That's not important. They've teamed up. Without a doubt."

Raglan swallowed nervously and held tightly to the leash as the Labrador started to go after a squirrel. "The last time we spoke you didn't think that was a real possibility. You said they might have been at the center of what happened in Arkansas, but you weren't convinced they were in this together."

"Well, the simple answer to that is, I was apparently wrong."

"That is not a good enough answer, Simmons. I've risked everything for this. Everything."

"And you don't think I have?"

"You as good as threatened me the last time we met."

"I know. I apologize for that. I'm under unbelievable pressure."

"And you don't think I am?"

"We have to stick together on this. I've been given an ultimatum. I have to find Beckett and Castle and eliminate them."

"Okay. But how?"

"I'll need your help."

"Me? What can I do?"

"You're the chairman, Raglan. There's a lot you can do."

"Okay, okay, just calm down." He thought for a minute. "I certainly can get information about the agency's reaction to this recent development. They may have a line on the two."

"That's exactly what we need, Raglan. We have to piggyback on the agency's pursuit of Beckett and Castle. If you're not read in over there on it, get in on it. Push for answers. Push for the ultimate solution. Tell them you want to be kept apprised of every step. If they're located and a strike team is sent in you want to know ahead of time."

"So you can send in your team?"

"Exactly."

"But why not just let the agency personnel do it? It's cleaner that way."

"Because they might just take them alive. And then they can talk, Raglan."

"You . . . you think they know things that might lead—"

"That might lead right back to us. Yes, I do. We're on Beckett's list. At least I am. And I would be stunned if you weren't. We've talked about this before. Neither of them can be allowed to come in alive. You have to get the agency to lead us to them. That way we can end it quick and relatively clean."

"But if I tip you off they might suspect my involvement."

"Think, Raglan, think! They want this put to bed as much as we do. This is a black eye for them. They will cover this over with so much dirt no one will ever get to the truth of it. Now, can I report back that you're in?'

Raglan didn't hesitate. "Yes. Absolutely. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Thanks, Raglan. You won't regret this. Let's meet at my office tomorrow morning around seven. We can discuss further details. Time is really of the essence."

Simmons clicked off and Raglan slowly put the phone back in his pocket.

He was shaking. He was actually shaking with fear and doubt.

 _But I will get through this. I will survive this._

The dog was running toward him, its leash trailing behind it. Raglan saw the same young woman racing to catch it. He shot out a hand and snagged the leash.

Breathless, the woman ran up and stopped next to him.

He held up the leash. "That's your exercise for tonight," he said.

"Thank you so much."

"What's your name?" He ran his eye over her figure. He couldn't help himself.

"Natalie Rhodes. The little guy there is Storm."

"Hello, Storm," said Raglan, bending down to pet him. "Do you live around here?" he asked, rising back up.

A gun was pointed at his face.

"No," said Rhodes. "And neither do you anymore."

She fired and the suppressed round slammed into Raglan's face. He dropped where he stood, dead before he hit the dirt.

The woman walked off with her dog

* * *

Castle stood in the middle of a Metro train holding on to an overhead handrail. He wore sunglasses, a ball cap pulled low over his forehead, and a hoodie for extra concealment.

The train pulled into the next station and stopped. Castle didn't react when the woman boarded. He kept his gaze partially downcast, but his peripheral vision was firmly on her.

For her part, Jordan Shaw didn't react when she saw Castle. The only reason she recognized him was because he had told her what he would be wearing, which train car he would be on, and where he would be standing in that car.

She took her time working her way over to him. Most people around them were reading e-books, surfing on their electronic devices, listening to music through earbuds, or simply dozing in their seats.

She stopped next to him and grabbed a handrail. In a low voice she said, "How are you?"

"A little stressed."

"I can understand that. The stuff that happened on that train?"

He nodded.

"How did you get away?" she whispered.

"Jumped."

She flinched. "Alone?"

He shook his head.

"Who?"

He shook his head again.

She looked at him stubbornly. "I'm trying to help you."

"And I'm trying to keep you safe. Do you have it?"

She gazed at him sternly for another moment and then took the newspaper out of her bag. She pretended to read the front page. As the train picked up speed she unfolded the paper. Taped to it was a USB stick. The way it was positioned, only Castle could see it. With a swipe of his hand he slipped the stick into his pocket.

He turned to leave, but Shaw gripped his elbow. Castle looked at her cautiously. He was afraid she was about to blow everything.

She mouthed two words:

 _Kick ass._

He nodded curtly, turned, and weaved his way through the passengers. As the train entered the next station he drew close to the door. As he was exiting he looked over at Shaw. She was staring off. But Castle could read her mind.

 _She doesn't believe I'm going to survive this._

 _And if I'm honest with myself, neither do I._

* * *

Castle rejoined Kate in her rental car. As she drove through the streets, he used a laptop to scroll through the files Shaw had given him.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Shaw got me all she could find on suspicious movements overseas, heightened threat alerts. Upgraded military preparedness. Unusual chatter in the usual places."

"And?"

"There's some strange sub activity in the Atlantic. We're sending a few more ships to the Persian Gulf, probably to do with Iran. And there was a surprise naval exercise in the Pacific. But that's all on our side. I'm not finding anything that might be what we're looking for, meaning unusual movement by our enemies."

"Nothing?"

"Wait a minute," Castle said sharply.

He scanned down a page. "I remember seeing this on TV a while back, but that was before I knew about any of this so I didn't make the connection."

"What is it?"

"The president is going to England for a conference on terrorism."

"So?"

"It's not just the president."

"Okay, who else will be there?"

He looked up. "All the leaders of the G8. The Godfather scenario is a lot easier to play out if all of them are in the same place."

"But, Castle, think of the security they'll have there. Locked down tighter than anything else on the planet. There is no way they can hit that. No way."

"After 9/11, I refuse to say anything is impossible."

"But you said the president will be there. He's not part of the target."

"According to Maddox's paper he wasn't. That doesn't mean they're sticking to the paper in every detail. Maybe they want to nail him too."

"I get the bad guys coming after us. But why in the hell would people inside our government want to kill the president? And I still don't understand why they would want to kill the G8 leaders."

"They're traitors. Maybe they were just paid off. It happens."

Kate didn't look remotely convinced. "But this is not some gundown in the street, Castle. This is global meltdown. If they are being paid off, where are they going to spend their money? They have to live on the planet too. It makes no sense."

"You're the one who believes that this paper Maddox wrote is at the center of this whole thing. If you no longer think that, I need to know, right now."

"I do still believe it."

"Because of Mike Royce?" he said.

She nodded, blinking slowly. "Yes."

"Who did he get close enough to in order to figure this out?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. He sent me enough details for me to know what was going on. He sent me the names on the list. He told me what they were planning to do based on that paper, at least as much as he knew of it."

"Did he send you the paper?"

"No. I got that from another friend of mine who tracked it down."

"Nice to have friends."

"So do we go to England?"

"If that's where the hit is going to take place, I don't see an alternative."

"How about we tell Shaw our suspicions? She can send word up the line."

"They're not going to take any action without meeting her sources. And she can't tell them it's us without getting herself arrested. Same reason we can't do it. So that's a no-go," said Castle.

"You have a fake passport the agency doesn't know about?"

"Of course," said Castle.

"Then maybe it's time to head to England."

Castle looked down at the screen once more. "Maybe it is."

"I would like to check one other thing, Castle."

"What's that?"

She picked up her phone. "The friend."

"Where is this friend? And can he or she be trusted?"

"Yes, he can. And he works at the mall."

"The mall? Doing what?"

"He's a Ju Jitsu trainer. Among other things."

"What can he find out for us?"

"The real name of Jackie the Westie. Because that son of a bitch is going to die and I'm going to pull the trigger."

* * *

Five people were in the room:

William Bracken.

Victoria Gates.

Perlmutter, the APNSA.

The director of the FBI, Michael Smith.

And the president of the United States.

The president said, "Any leads on who killed John Raglan?"

Smith shook his head. "Not yet, sir. It was an execution-style hit. We've recovered the bullet, but we have no gun to match it to."

The president looked incredulous. "And no one saw anything? They were in a damn public park."

"We've made inquiries," said Smith. "Unfortunately, we've turned up no witnesses yet."

Bracken said, "There might not be any witnesses. If it was a professional hit they would have made sure there was no one around."

"But for what purpose?" asked the president.

Gates said, "It might be tied to Raglan's Intelligence Committee activities."

"Is it also tied to the deaths of Coonan and Josh?" asked the president. He leaned back in his chair and studied the other people in the room, looking them over one by one, awaiting an answer.

Bracken said, "Well, they all were involved in the intelligence field. At least it's a common theme."

The president gazed at Smith. "And we're no closer to solving those murders, are we?"

"We're making some progress," said Smith lamely.

"Good to hear," said Bracken. "Some progress is always welcome, whatever minimal form it might take."

The two directors shared a nasty glance.

Perlmutter said sharply, "And there is the matter of the train. Casualties and what looks to be a considerable cover-up." He paused and gave a sideways glance at the president. "And there is of course the outstanding issue of Katherine Beckett. And now, apparently, if I'm reading the tea leaves correctly, Richard Castle." He gazed at Bracken. "Is Castle still off the grid?"

Bracken nodded before glancing at Gates and then quickly looking away.

"And what might Castle be doing off the grid?" asked Perlmutter.

Bracken shrugged. "I wish I knew, Perlmutter."

Perlmutter continued, "When I spoke with Castle—before he went off the grid," he added in a condescending tone—"he told me several troubling things." He glanced at the president, who seemed to be aware of what Perlmutter was about to say.

The president nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead, Perlmutter. We need to get all this aired."

Perlmutter said, "Castle told me that Roy Montgomery was troubled by unexplained incidents at the agency." He looked sharply at Bracken. "Your agency."

"What sorts of things?" Smith wanted to know.

Perlmutter looked at his tablet. "Missing personnel. Missions that never should have happened. Missing money. Missing equipment."

Smith looked surprised but also somewhat pleased by this revelation.

"Serious allegations," said the president.

"Serious allegations indeed," echoed Smith.

The president continued, "I am well aware that we had some enemies of this country placed very close to home." He shot a glance at Smith. "And it wasn't simply at CIA. It was at your agency as well." Smith immediately lost most of his cocksure manner.

The president returned his gaze to Bracken. "I thought it an isolated incident. I am sitting here almost entirely due to the courage and skill of Richard Castle. If he thought something was still wrong, then so do I. If he said that Montgomery was worried, I believe him."

"And yet he's gone off the grid," said Smith.

"That could be explained any number of ways," said Perlmutter.

"If he's teamed up with Katherine Beckett, and she was responsible for the deaths of Coonan and Josh, then any explanation would be highly problematic," noted Bracken ominously.

Gates glanced at him, but Bracken continued, "I have heard theories that Coonan and Josh were traitors to this country. I am aware that a former analyst to the CIA, Cole Maddox, was recently killed. And that Kate and Castle might have been there."

"That's the first we've heard of such speculation," snapped Perlmutter.

"Because that's what it is, speculation," countered Bracken. "I don't know where people stand on this thing. I don't know if Beckett and/or Castle are on our side or not. What I do know is that people are dying and there has to be a good reason for that. The stakes surrounding this matter must be astronomically high. But no one has been able to figure out what they are or where the motivations lie."

"And Raglan?" said Perlmutter quietly. "Could he also be involved somehow? Perhaps a traitor too? Might Beckett have killed him too?"

"I don't know," said a clearly frustrated Bracken. "I just don't know."

Perlmutter said, "Castle told me that he believed it was Katherine Beckett who saved his and Montgomery's life that night. That she was the countersniper who left all the shell casings. If that is the case then I am hard pressed to see how she could be a traitor."

"If she shot and killed Josh and Coonan, she is at the very least a murderer," snapped Bracken, but then he seemed to regret his loss of temper. He went on more calmly, "If they were traitors, that's why we have courts. You don't go around and just shoot people because you suspect them of some wrongdoing."

"Yes, but be that as it may," said Perlmutter, "I'm not prepared to come down so hard on Beckett if the men had turned against their country. There is nothing in her record, or Castle's for that matter, that would suggest either of them have turned traitor."

"Well the same holds true for Coonan and Josh," interjected Bracken.

"Duly noted," said the president. "But we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. For the time being, we have to put every resource we have into solving this thing. And that includes finding Castle and Beckett, as quickly as possible. If they are working for us somehow, they could be invaluable in clearing up this matter."

"And if they're working against us?" asked Bracken.

"Then their fate is completely predictable." The president looked around. "Any disagreements there?"

The president rose. "I'll be leaving for England shortly. But keep me informed. Highest priority. No major decisions without briefing me. Clear?"

The others nodded.

The men all stood as the president disappeared through a door held open for him by a Secret Service agent.

When the door closed behind him, Perlmutter sat. So did the others.

"So where do we really stand on all this, Perlmutter?" asked Bracken.

"I thought the president was perfectly clear on it, Bracken," said Perlmutter in mild surprise.

"With the things he said, yes. I mean the things that were left unsaid."

"I think you can deduce what they are. But I'll give you a hint. If this isn't resolved satisfactorily then there will be ultimate accountability."

He looked at Bracken, then at Smith, and finally at Gates. "Ultimate accountability," he repeated.

"How much time do we have?" asked Smith.

Perlmutter rose, signaling an end to the meeting. "Apparently none at all."

* * *

Castle and Kate went their separate ways after they got out of her rental car and entered the mall through different doors.

They were communicating via earwigs on a secure frequency. Castle had insisted on treating this like an op, and Kate had quickly agreed. She apparently didn't expect any trouble, but she also never expected everything to go perfectly either.

That was a good rule to live by, Castle knew, because perfection was rarely the case in the field.

She walked down the main corridor of the mall. It was in the afternoon and there weren't as many people around as there would be later in the day. Still, she did her best to blend in.

She approached the Dojo from the east side of the mall. She spoke in a low voice. "Ten steps from target. Giving a signal and then heading west and down the hall to the restrooms."

"Copy that," said Castle.

He was on the upper level of the mall, hidden in his hoodie, looking down at her as she passed by. He watched as she strode past the Dojo. She slid her finger along her chin and then kept going.

Castle smiled at this. He had used that very same signal once. He watched her turn down the hall to the restrooms.

A minute later, Castle keyed on a muscular man wearing a black UFC T-shirt who came out of the Dojo and followed the path Kate had taken.

The next second Castle had his hand around the gun in his pocket.

There were two teams out there.

One coming east, the other west.

He had seen dozens of such configurations over the years. They all looked a little different, but to someone like Castle they all also looked the same.

They obviously hadn't accounted for Castle. He was the wild card. He intended to make the most of that status.

He spoke into his mic. "Two bogie teams headed your way. East, west. Pair of deuces. Armed and communicating so they can coordinate."

That had been one way for Castle to ID the hit teams.

Their earwigs.

He had covered his with a hoodie. They had not seen fit to do that.

Their mistake.

"Copy that," was Kate's calm response. "Do what I can."

"On your six."

"Copy that."

She was seconds from having to fight her way out of here, and she sounded like she was simply going to use the bathroom to relieve herself.

Castle would have expected nothing less.

He took the escalator three steps at a time. When he hit the first floor he was already at a full sprint.

One of the bogie teams had already gone down the hall toward the restrooms. The second team was two steps from there.

"FBI, freeze!" called out Castle.

The men did not freeze. Castle had called out on the off chance that they might be the authorities.

They weren't.

It was burned into law enforcement folks to ID themselves when possibly confronted by fellow lawmen. Creds came out and people started screaming who they were with. The last thing a cop wanted was to get shot by another cop. Or shoot another cop.

These men said nothing, and the only things that came out of their jackets were guns.

Before they could fire on him, Castle shot one man in the knee. He screamed and dropped immediately, his gun flying from his hand. Castle wasn't worried about him reentering the fight. Destroyed knees were so painful that even the toughest men could only lie there and sob like babies.

The second man fired at Castle, shattering a large planter that a moment earlier Castle had been standing in front of. Castle crouched and turned to the side. He tasted acid in his mouth as bile was shoved up his throat. No matter how many times you did this, being shot at was not natural, and your body reacted in consistent ways. Castle had fear; anyone would in that situation. But he didn't have panic, which was the key difference between those who lived and those who didn't.

The man would not get another chance to shoot. No knee shot this time; Castle dropped him with a round between his eyes.

Castle raced down the hall. He ran even harder when he heard the shots.

He spoke into his mic. "Beckett? Beckett, you copy? You okay? Kate?"

He slowed, turned the corner prepared to fire, and stopped.

There were three bodies lying in pools of blood.

When Castle saw they were all men, he let out his breath.

But three?

Then it hit him. The friend. From the Dojo.

Kate stepped from around the far corner, her gun in her right hand.

He looked at her. "You okay?"

She nodded, but said nothing. Her gaze was on her friend.

Castle heard screams behind him. Feet running. Mall cops probably.

That was the last thing they needed. He was not going to fire on an unarmed young punk or retired geezer posing as the authorities.

"We've got to get out of here."

"I know," she said dumbly.

"I mean now."

Castle looked past her. There was a set of exit doors there. Had to be a way out.

When he looked back at Kate, she was bending down next to her dead friend, wiping a lock of hair out of his face.

Castle heard her say, "I'm so sorry, Javi."

He ran forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled her down the hall. He kicked open the exit door and the two raced through it.

Caste looked around. They were in a storage area.

"You know which way is out?"

Kate didn't seem to have heard him.

He turned. "Katherine, do you know the way out!" he barked.

She focused, looked embarrassed, and pointed to the left. "That way, doors let out on the east side. Come on, follow me."

They reached the outside and fast-walked back to the parking garage. They got to Kate's car. It looked like they had made a clean exit.

Until they heard the screech of tires coming fast.

The dead men had backup.

And they were coming fast.

Castle only had time to say, "Look out."

Kate burned her tires and drove in reverse right at the larger vehicle. Castle braced for impact, but it never came.

He saw the front grille of the SUV for an instant. It seemed to swallow up the whole of the back glass of their car. Then somehow Kate had turned just enough to slide through a gap between the SUV and a concrete support column.

She cut a swerve with the car and rammed the car into drive before she had even finished the 180-degree maneuver. She left a quarter inch of tire rubber on the concrete floor of the garage and the car careened through the exit and out into traffic entering the mall.

Kate cut her wheel to the left, jumped the median, and punched the gas. The car shot to the right. She slammed into a line of orange traffic cones, cut the wheel to the right, and slid into another turn.

Castle barely managed to buckle his seat belt. His gun was out but there was nothing to shoot at.

There was traffic up ahead, but it was only on one side. Unfortunately it was on their side. Kate solved this problem by going British and driving on the opposite side of the road.

She cleared the traffic, didn't bother to stop at the red light, slashed into oncoming traffic, managed to somehow bend the car's path into a left-hand turn, losing a hubcap in the process, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor as she got back on the right side of the road.

Sirens were coming from all over the place now.

Castle looked behind them. "We're good. Dial it back so the cops don't get a clue."

She eased off the gas, held for a second at a yield sign, and then merged into traffic. A few minutes later they were on a highway going seventy with the traffic flow.

Castle put his gun away. "Sorry about your friend."

"I'm sorry you keep having to say that," she replied.

"Who was he?"

"His name was Javier Esposito. And I'm the reason he's dead."

"No you're not. It was the guys shooting at you."

"I didn't check for an observation team, Castle. I knew there used to be one there. A legit one. I always checked. But I didn't today."

"How did it go down?"

"Shot from one of them ricocheted off a trash can and caught Esposito right in the eye. He was dead before he hit the floor."

"Then what?"

"I shot the guys. One round each. They weren't very good. Came running in like I wasn't going to even fight back. Stupid."

"My guys weren't that good either, actually," said Castle.

She looked at him sharply. "I wonder why not?"

"Maybe their best guys are already in England."

Castle turned the radio on. "I want to hear if there's anything on the news about the mall yet."

There wasn't. But there was another story that captured their interest. The news anchor was concise with the details, although right now there weren't that many of them.

When the anchor went on to another story Castle turned off the radio and stared over at Kate. "Someone murdered John Raglan," he said.

"They're cleaning up loose ends, Castle. These sons of bitches are planning to pull this off and then get away scot free. But they're not. I'm going to put a round into every single one of them. I'm going to keep shooting them over and over until I run out of bullets."

He placed a hand on her arm and gripped it.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"I'm sorry about Esposito. We can go somewhere and you can grieve for him. And for Viola—"

"I don't need to grieve for anybody—"

"I think you do."

"You don't know anything about me. So leave your damn grieving sermon for somebody who cares. I'm a killer, Castle. People are usually dying all around me."

"But not usually your friends, Kate."

She started to say something, but then the words seemed to catch in her throat.

Castle continued, "I'm not playing grief counselor. Once we get to England, there will be no time for you to get right in your head. So you're either in this a hundred percent and I know I can count on you, or you're useless to me and you can drop me at the next exit."

Kate blinked. "You used that ploy on me once before, Castle."

"Yemen. We lost Martin Danberg. You blamed yourself. More to the point, you checked out on me for about half an hour."

"Until you kicked my ass."

"Because a team is a team, Kate. And there're only two people currently on our team. A house divided is screwed. Which in our case means dead."

She took a long, calming breath. "I'm good, Castle."

"Turn the anger into something that will guarantee we beat these pricks, Kate. That's all I'm saying."

"I know. You're right."

They drove in silence for a few miles.

Kate broke it by saying, "That's why you always were number one."

He turned to look at her.

"You never let your emotions get the better of you, Castle. Never. You were a machine. Everybody thought so."

He stared down at his hands. He actually felt embarrassed by her words.

By how wrong they were.

He reached into his jacket and rubbed the stock of his pistol. Not for luck. It was never about luck.

This was his talisman. This was his tool of choice. This was what he did.

I am a killer.

I am also a human being.

The only problem is, I can't be both.

I want to be normal.

I don't want this to be my legacy.

But maybe it was too late for that.

Maybe some people will remember him with a smile on their face.

Castle glanced at him. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

"Nothing important," he answered.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

The private jet could carry a dozen passengers comfortably.

It only held two tonight.

Kate sat in the rear seat of the cabin.

Castle was next to her.

No one was behind them. That was how each liked it.

"How did you score this ride?" he asked.

"Fractional share ownership. A lot less security. And a lot more privacy." She looked at him. "What do you spend your money on?"

"Remember my little house in the woods? The rest is in the bank earning negative interest."

"Saving for your retirement? Your golden years?"

"Doubtful. You know, they could trace your ownership of the plane."

"It's not under my name. It's under the name of a Russian billionaire who doesn't even know how many planes and yachts he owns. I just get my little piece and no one's the wiser."

"That was clever."

"We'll see how clever I am when we get to London."

"I've done some recon."

"Your friend Shaw again?"

"Never hurts to have the Bureau's research muscle behind you."

"Didn't she ask questions?"

"She was thinking them, but she didn't ask them."

"So what did she find out?"

"The protection bubble is much like past years, with a couple of new wrinkles."

"Such as?"

"Apparently, in a show of global cooperation, they have invited some non-G8 leaders for a day event. It actually opens the conference."

"Which non-G8 leaders?" asked Kate.

"Several from the Middle East."

"Are they idiots?"

"Apparently they don't think so, no."

"You know what comes with leaders."

"Their security details."

"And those details are internally vetted. We have to trust that they are what they say they are."

"That's right."

Kate looked out the window at forty-one thousand feet where the dark sky sat there, vast, empty, and apparently brooding.

"Do you want a drink?" asked Kate. She rose to head to the bar at the front of the cabin.

"No thank you," responded Castle.

"You might change your mind about that."

A minute later she settled back in her seat cradling a wine bottle.

They hit some modest turbulence and she held the glass up to avoid spilling the contents. As the air smoothed out she took a sip and looked at Castle's laptop screen.

He said, "We've got a bag full of weapons back there. How about customs?"

"Russian billionaires don't go through ordinary customs and neither do their ride-share partners. The process is very streamlined and private for the most part."

"Tell me again how you managed that?"

"I didn't think I told you in the first place."

"You sure your Russian billionaire's not a security issue?"

"He loves America. Loves free markets. Loves capitalism. He's an ally. No issues there. And he gets us private wings and an arsenal through customs."

"I'm impressed with some of the firepower you have."

"Don't think it'll be enough. Too many of them. Not enough of us."

"We just have to be more clever and more nimble."

"Easy to say. A lot harder to do."

He stared at her drink.

"You want one now?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'll get it."

"No, I got it. It's my one chance to be domestic."

He watched her walk down the aisle. The last thing he could ever envision was Katherine Beckett domesticated.

When she returned, she clinked her glass against his. She said, "When this is all over, it still won't be all over."

Castle nodded. He knew right where she was going.

He sipped his drink, thought about his response. "I guess it won't be."

"Would you believe me if I told you at this point I didn't care?"

"But that doesn't necessarily change anything."

"So kill or capture me?"

"I received conflicting orders, actually. Some were kill. Some were capture."

"But with capture I could make public statements. I could say things they don't want to hear. I have the right to freedom of speech. I'm entitled to a legal defense. So I don't see an option other than kill, Castle."

Castle sipped his drink and ate some chocolate she had brought back in a bowl. "Let's see if we survive London. If we do, we can revisit the question."

She swallowed the rest of her drink and set it down. "Yeah," she said. "I suppose we can."

He stared at her. He knew this was a lie and so did she. They flew for another hundred miles in silence. Down below, the Atlantic frothed and churned as an ornery low-pressure system drifted farther out to sea.

Kate finally said, "When I pulled the trigger on Josh, you know what it felt like?"

He shook his head.

"No different from any of the other trigger pulls I've made. No difference at all. I thought I would feel something new because he helped kill Royce. I thought there would be some sense of revenge, of justice even."

"And Coonan? How did you feel when you killed him?"

She looked at him. "How do you think I should have felt?"

Castle shrugged. "I'm not the person to ask."

"You're the perfect person to ask. But let me ask you something."

Castle waited, his eyes narrowed, wondering where this conversation was going.

"You didn't pull a trigger when you were supposed to. How did that feel to you?"

"The target died anyway."

"That's not what I asked. How did you feel?"

Castle didn't answer right away. The truth was he had tried not to think about that very thing.

 _How did I feel?_

Kate answered for him. "Liberated?"

Castle looked down. That had been the exact word forming in his mind.

Kate seemed to sense this but did not push the point. "Another drink?" she asked, noting his empty glass. When he hesitated, she said, "Remember the domesticity, Castle? I sense I'll become bored with it before we land. So strike while the iron is hot."

She took the drink out of his hand but set it down on the tray. She looked at her watch. "We have exactly three hours and forty-one minutes to landing."

"Okay?" asked Castle, looking confused and dropping his gaze to the empty glass.

Then it occurred to him that she was not talking about a second drink. His eyes widened slightly.

"You think the timing sucks?" she asked in response to his look.

"Don't you?" he said.

"This is not the first time I've thought about it with you. Those youthful hormones, in close proximity in life-and-death situations with lots of guns. Recipe for something to happen. How about you?"

"It wasn't supposed to be part of it. Never, in fact."

"Supposed to be doesn't equal what could be."

"About the timing?"

"It's perfect, actually."

"Why?"

"Because both you and I know we're not going to live past England. They know you've sided with me. They're not going to let you survive this. There are a lot more of them than there are of us. Doesn't take a roomful of analysts to decipher that one. Now, I'll die with many regrets. But I don't want that to be one of them. What about you?"

She rose and held out a hand. "What about you?" she said again. "The bed in back is very comfortable."

Castle stared at her hand for another moment and then looked away.

He didn't get out of his seat.

Kate slowly drew her hand back. "See you in London." She started to walk down the aisle to the private quarters in the plane's front section.

"It has nothing to do with you, Kate."

She stiffened and stopped walking, but didn't look back.

"There's someone else?" she said. "Shaw?"

"No."

"I'm surprised you found the time for someone."

"She's no longer alive."

Now Kate did turn.

"It was recent," said Castle.

Kate came back and sat down next to him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Why? I'm a machine, right? That's what you said."

She put her palm against his chest. "Machines don't have heartbeats. You're not a machine. I shouldn't have said that. I'd like to hear about it. If you want to talk."

"Are you sure?"

"I've got nowhere else to go for the next three hours and"—she glanced at her watch—"thirty-eight minutes."

The plane flew on.

And Castle talked about a young woman, Sofia Turner, who had stolen his heart and then nearly his life, because she turned out to be the enemy.

And in response he had done the only thing he was really good at.

He had killed her.

It was something that only a person like Kate Beckett could understand.

Castle hadn't realized that Kate had intermingled their hands together while he let out what happened to him in the past decade. If this was a therapist session then Kate was an excellent counselor as he had even poured out his intention to lead a normal life.

Time passed by and Castle had finished talking. Their hands were still joined as he looked out the small window of the jet. On the seat next to him Kate had passed out with her head on his shoulder. Maybe if they survive they could have a shot at a normal life.

* * *

Vulcan Simmons was on the move.

He had taken two weeks off from his duties as a judge. They could spare him.

He packed a bag and kissed his wife and children goodbye.

This was not unusual. He often went away without a lot of explanation. His wife understood it to be part of his past life that he did not talk about.

Well, this wasn't really about his past life. It was about his future. Precisely speaking, whether he was going to have one or not.

Josh, Coonan, and now Raglan were dead.

Simmons knew that he would have to dance nimbly not to end up like the other three men. He had foes on both flanks now.

Beckett and Castle were formidable. He was less concerned about them, though, than with the opponent on his other flank. But the clear way out was to make sure that the plan succeeded. At least his part of it. After that, it was out of his hands. But he also couldn't be blamed for that part failing.

It was also an opportunity for him to get back out in the field after years of sitting behind a desk. That inactivity had been a slow death for him, he could see that now. It had been a luxury killing that idiot Hal Lockwood. He had missed that.

He drove to the airport and checked his car into long-term parking. The night was a fine one. Clear skies, many stars, light winds. It would be a good flight. He would have to hit the ground running. There was a fair amount of prep work that needed to be done.

Success or failure was always defined largely during the preparation. With good planning all one had to do was execute. Even last-second changes could be made with greater ease if the planning in the first place had been precise.

Simmons carried no weapons in his bag. That was not his job this time around. He was a thinker, a processor, not a doer.

Part of that pained him, but at his age, he also knew it was the most realistic option for him. Once this was over, the future was both uncertain and crystal clear. Clear for those who knew what was about to happen. A little murkier for everyone else. Flowing up his spine was an electrified charge of excitement mixed with dread. It would certainly be a different world after this. But a better one, he truly believed.

He took a bus to the terminal, showed his passport, checked his bag, passed through security, and walked to the lounge to await his international flight.

The wild card or cards were obvious.

Beckett and Castle.

The attack at the mall was conclusive proof in Simmons mind. Four pros wiped out by two pros who were far more professional.

The battle lost, but not the war, of course.

Eliminating Beckett's source of information was the primary objective. The cleanup had been messy. Cover stories had been deployed and the FBI and DHS would be led round and round the merry-go-round until they were so dizzy the truth could bite them in the collective ass and they would fail to see it.

Simmons sipped on a bottle of orange juice and had some crackers and cheese in the airport club to which he belonged. Ordinarily he would fly on private wings to his destination, but this time commercial was just as good. He looked out the window and watched jet after jet pull back from their gates, taxi off, and a few minutes later lift into the clear night sky.

Soon it would be his turn.

He wondered where Castle and Beckett were right now.

Perhaps on the way to the same place he was?

Could they have figured it out considering what they had to work with?

The apocalypse paper was a key piece, but it listed no specific target. It just gave a scenario of players. The other pieces they might have put together, but to make sense out of it all—that was a stretch even for the likes of them.

And if Beckett had gotten what she needed from Cole Maddox she wouldn't have had to turn to the late Javier Esposito. It was lucky that Simmons superior had remembered that connection and quickly posted a team on him.

The only misfortune was that his men had not picked up on Castle. But for him they might have gotten Beckett. But they hadn't and that was that.

His flight was called an hour later. He boarded after watching the other passengers crowd into the small gate area. The flight would be full. That was okay. It was a popular route.

He would try to sleep.

But he doubted that he would be successful. He had too much to think about.

As he was sitting down in his seat, his phone buzzed.

He looked at the text. Good luck, it read.

He put it away without texting back.

What was he supposed to say? Thanks?

He buckled up and reclined the seat. He pulled out his wallet and slipped the photo out.

His other life. His family. Beautiful young wife, adorable children. They lived in the perfect home in the perfect neighborhood and had all the money they would ever need to be happy. He could be with them right now. Tucking his kids in. Making love to his wife. Having a scotch in his study while reading a good book. He could do that for the rest of his days and be extremely content, euphoric even.

But here he was on a plane that would be flying to yet another destination where he would risk life and limb for the greater good.

Simmons ran his finger against his wife's picture.

A female passenger sitting next to him, who had observed what he had done, smiled. "I know. I miss my family every time I leave too," she said.

He smiled and then turned away.

A few minutes later the plane zipped down the runway and lifted into the air.

Simmons had been on many flights, from patched-together choppers in the jungles of Vietnam where every tree seemingly provided cover for Viet Cong trying to take the aircraft down, to 747s that had whisked him across the globe in luxury. But in each instance when he'd gotten on the ground he had been prepared to kill. And quite often did.

He unfolded the paper and looked at the front page.

John Raglan was still alive—in the photo, that is. His eyes were open. He was smiling. His wife was by his side at some social function that required outrageously expensive formal gowns for the women and cookie-cutter penguin suits for the men.

In reality Raglan was on a slab at the D.C. morgue with part of his head missing. He would never smile again.

Simmons had known nothing of the hit but he agreed with its execution. Loose ends tied up. The weak separated from the rest of the herd.

They were near the end of this and nothing and no one was going to interfere with the desired result. Too much time in the planning. Too many obstacles avoided. Far too much at stake.

It was Super Bowl Sunday. All the hype was over.

It was time to play the damn game.

* * *

London, Castle and Kate had to admit, was a fortress. They had been here less than twenty-four hours and they could already tell. They had done every possible recon and feint to test the security perimeter around the G8 conference, and there was not one weakness to be found.

They were in Castle's hotel room overlooking a river that ran through central London. He was at the window with a pair of binoculars, staring across at the hotel center where the conference's main events were taking place. It seemed as if there were more security personnel than G8 attendees.

"What about the non-G8 elements?" asked Castle as he lowered the optics and looked over at Kate, who sat in a chair by the door.

"Basically confiscated. And Shaw didn't have it exactly right. The security for those folks is being provided by the G8. Their own security details were not invited."

"And they were okay with that?"

"If they weren't okay with it they didn't get to come."

"So if the hit is coming it's an inside job coming from Western resources," noted Castle.

"Not necessarily. There's nothing preventing a terrorist attack coming separate from the conference. Or there could be a terror cell in London right now."

He shook his head. "I'm telling you, something is definitely not right."

"I have the same feeling."

He sat on the bed, faced her. "We're missing something."

"I get that, I just don't know what."

He rose.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find what we're missing."

Castle left the hotel. Within fifteen minutes he was outside the area where the G8 conference was being held. The security perimeter was dense and multilayered. He had no chance of getting inside it without the proper credentials.

As he was standing there, two men came out of one building inside the security perimeter. They had on suits, but also were wearing traditional Muslim headwear. They did not get into a car or cab. They simply walked. Castle assumed they were part of the non-G8 delegation.

He looked at them as they passed by and decided to follow them. It might pan out or it might lead to nothing. But nothing was what he had right now.

He slipped in behind them. They eventually entered a hotel and went straight to the bar. They were forbidden by their religion to drink, but for some that edict disappeared while they were in Western lands. And there were few places on earth better suited to satisfy one's thirst for alcohol than London.

They took their drinks and sat at a table by the window. Castle bought his pint and took up a chair at a table next to them. He put his earbuds in and set his smartphone on the table but did not turn on any music. He sipped his beer and eavesdropped on their conversation, all the while swaying his head as he pretended to listen to a tune.

The men talked in low tones in Arabic. They had no reason to think that a westerner would understand a word they were saying. They would be right in almost every instance except this one.

They were attendees of the conference, but they weren't talking about the G8. There was another conference commencing shortly. It was to take place in New York at a small town well outside of the city. Castle had seen a brief news report about it a while back. It seemed a strange place for an Arab summit, but the American government had offered and there indeed was some logic to it. By meeting in a neutral place far removed from the violence and conflict that seemed to flood the Middle East, it was hoped that meaningful progress could be made. At least that was the official story. And the Americans were picking up the tab for the whole thing. It also showed goodwill from the West to try to work with the Arab countries. And while the United States itself, for political reasons, was not involved.

At the conference would be the leaders of the major Arab nations, all clustered together in one place to discuss ways to move forward peacefully instead of violently, as much of the recent Arab Spring had done. These men were not attending, but knew many who were. They didn't seem to think that any major breakthroughs would happen during this conference. One man laughed and said that Muslims, like westerners, couldn't really agree on much when it came to sharing power. They talked about certain leaders who would be there. Some they liked, others they wished dead.

The men finished their drinks, got up, and left. Castle could have followed them, but saw no real need to. It was far better for him to sit here and try to think this through. He sipped his drink and stared at the wall opposite.

The attack described in Cole Maddox's apocalypse paper had the G8 leadership as its target. Castle and Beckett had assumed that people working inside the United States had assisted enemies of the G8 with planning an attack at this conference, wiping out the G8 leadership and causing a global panic. That made sense. But what the Arab men had been talking about made him rethink this.

A conference in New York of leaders from numerous Arab countries.

Then his thoughts turned to the hit that Beckett had never made.

Samoor Ali. In Syria. Gates had said they wanted to derail Ali's coming to power and they had a more palatable choice in the wings, waiting to take over.

Castle put his beer down. As the liquid cleared his throat and settled into his stomach, his thoughts crystallized.

That's where he and Beckett had gotten it wrong. They had assumed that whoever was behind this was following Maddox's doomsday scenario to the letter. But that was just speculation, not fact. There was going to be an attack, only not on the G8; the security nut was too hard to crack.

But all those leaders clustered together in a small town outside of New York City? They were fish in a barrel. Eliminating them in a single stroke would result in complete chaos in one of the already most chaotic regions on earth. Regime after regime falling. Power vacuums. Elements fighting to take control. But maybe there were folks waiting to take power. And maybe they'd have help. And maybe whoever was behind this thought a better future would look a whole lot like the past.

And perhaps Cole Maddox's apocalypse paper would be played out in force, only not in the way its author, with all his paranoia, ever imagined.

Castle rose and walked back to his hotel.

The answer was not in London. It was three thousand miles away.

* * *

Less than three hours later, Castle and Beckett were packed, gone from the hotel, and at the airport outside London.

"Are you sure about this, Castle?" Kate asked for the seventh time.

"If you want a guarantee I can't give it. But otherwise I'm pretty damn sure."

Kate looked out the window of the terminal. "If you're wrong? If we leave here and something happens?"

"Then it happens," he said flatly. "I'll take full responsibility."

"I'm not worried about who takes responsibility."

"Neither am I. I'm just looking to stop it."

She said, "So instead of killing the G8 leadership they're planning to knock out the Middle Eastern heads of state? That's quite a leap."

"I didn't plan it, so I can't really account for the logic."

"It's still a terrible risk."

"Yes, it is."

"Even if everything goes according to plan we're still talking about a catastrophic scenario."

"We used to pick their puppet and put him in power. The puppet kept everyone in line and the area was peaceful. Look at the shah of Iran. And Saddam was our friend until he stopped being our friend. I'm sure the people they want in power have been carefully selected. Remember Samoor? That was one guy and one country. Just hitting singles. They're going for homers now by inserting puppets all at one time."

"But there'll be security in New York too."

"Not like in London. And it'll be a different sort of security."

"But it still comes down to how do just the two of us stop it?"

"We have a plane ride to come up with a plan," said Castle.

"You really think we can map this out in six hours?"

"No."

"What, then?" persisted Kate.

"We have seven. I checked the flight time. There's a stiff headwind."

"Castle, cut the crap!"

"An extra hour is an extra hour. But all I know is we have to try. Because if we don't try it will happen."

They boarded their flight. Thirty minutes later the private wings took off heading due west.

From the Internet Castle had assembled all the information he could on the event to which they were heading. After reviewing it, Kate finally sat back and said, "We don't have enough intel to pull this off, Castle."

"Well, Roy Montgomery said something that could help us. Missing personnel. Missions that never should have been. So we might see some old friends on this one."

"We might," Kate said doubtfully.

He stretched out his tight shoulders. "We won't have much time when we hit the ground. It starts tomorrow in the morning."

"If they hit today, while people are still just arriving, we won't even get a shot."

"They won't. They have to make it look like the real thing. Otherwise people will get suspicious. Terrorists always go for the symbolic blow. The summit will have to be up and running before they hit it."

"So the opening ceremony?"

He nodded. "That's what I think."

He rose and poured two cups of coffee from the small bar set up against a bulkhead. He set one down for her and retook his seat.

"I have a question for you," said Castle. "And it has nothing to do with what's coming up."

Kate sat back and stared at him. "What?"

"You saved my butt at Montgomery's, right?"

"Yes."

"You didn't have to do that. It was a big risk, in fact."

"Everything we do has big risks."

"That's not an answer, Kate."

She took a sip of coffee. "I figured I got you into this mess, it was my responsibility to look after you."

"Like you did on the cottage?"

"Nothing is absolute, Rick. That was early on. I just wanted to survive to finish this. Later, my thinking changed."

"Changed about me?"

"It would have given me no pleasure to see you die." She looked away for a few moments. Castle saw her hand tremble.

He took hold of it with a somber expression on his face.

When she turned back her features were calm. "Are we done with that? Good to go now?"

"Good to go," said Castle.

For the rest of the flight they did nothing but troubleshoot what they had to do, looking for any weakness, any advantage. As they neared landing in New York, Kate sat back, rubbed her eyes, and looked at Castle.

"So let's assume we actually survive this," she said. "What's next for you?"

He shrugged. "Have you been thinking about your future?"

"I'm just tired, Castle."

He nodded. "I can see that."

Kate studied him. "Do you miss her? The woman who hurt you?"

"No," he said, but his tone was unconvincing.

Kate sat back. "Okay."

"I blame myself."

"What, for being human?"

"For not doing my job."

She settled her gaze on him. "Which requires you to not be human."

"A job is a job."

"And a life is a life. You only have one of those."

He shook his head. "So call it quits?"

"How many out there have lasted as long as we have?"

"Not that many, I guess."

"You must have thought about life after."

"I have. But I guess I never thought about it seriously."

Her grip tightened around his hands and locked eyes with him.

"I would respectfully suggest that you do. Because we might get really lucky and actually survive this."


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

The private jet landed right on time in New York. That was where all the planes had come through on the way to the event.

After that Kate and Castle drove.

For a long way.

"Why here?" asked Kate. "Why have a summit for the Middle East all the way out here?"

"Where should they have held it? In the middle of Manhattan? The White House?"

"It's not easy to get to."

Castle said, "That's one reason they chose it. Restricted access. They can more easily check people coming and going."

"Who's moderating the event? The CIA? NYPD?"

"The CIA. The Vice President left England summit early to deliver the keynote at the opening ceremony."

"Odd choice."

"Odd everything," agreed Castle.

The town's main street wasn't large, but it was well stocked with shops. To Castle, it looked like a place you might find inside a snow globe.

Trapped inside a snow globe, actually. Foot traffic was far higher than normal, as was the number of cars. But heavily armed checkpoints had been set up at all entry points. Cars were searched, the IDs of each vehicle's occupants checked.

Because of this, Castle and Kate didn't drive through any checkpoints. They were staying at a hotel outside of town. They had to leave their weapons behind when they separately entered the town on foot.

Castle walked the streets front to back, committing to memory all landmarks, the location of the major event—the town's old city hall—and the security personnel who roamed the area. He knew that Kate was making the same sort of canvas of the area.

He had concluded that the Godfather scenario was less reasonable. It would require pinpoint timing and a lot of luck. And most professionals knew that neither one was, realistically, in ample supply during these sorts of missions.

It would be one hit, an all-out assault with concentrated fire or explosives on a central target. This included several leaders who headed up what amounted to terrorist organizations camouflaged as governments. But then again, crazies had been allowed to address the UN in New York, so he supposed this wasn't such a stretch. And some of them had been elected by a majority of voters exercising their democratic right to install whomever they chose to lead them.

Even if it was to oblivion.

He bought a cup of coffee and watched a group of bearded men cross the street and enter another shop. There were many such groups here. All men. No women, at least that he could see. That was just how things were. And that was a big part of the problem, he felt.

Despite the chill he sat at an outdoor table and drank his coffee. His gaze kept wandering and he finally keyed on a group of men walking down the far side of the street.

He spoke into his mic. "Group of five guys on the east side of the street heading toward the hotel at the end of the street. Do a pass and tell me what you see."

A few seconds later Kate emerged from an alley. She wore a hooded coat and sunglasses. She passed the group. Castle was the only one who noticed that she slowed down just a tad as she passed them. Her gaze seemed to be fixed straight ahead. But it wasn't. It roamed over the men, taking in all relevant details.

That was what years of training got you, an almost supernatural talent for observation.

Over his earwig Castle heard, "Nothing."

She kept walking and he heard her say, "Hold on a sec. Let me check something."

She kept walking down the street. Castle watched as she passed a guy wearing a black warm-up suit, with a ski cap pulled low. He was looking down at the pavement but Castle could tell his gaze was also roaming.

Kate passed him. A few seconds later over his earwig Castle heard her say, "Bingo. Tag, you're it."

Castle immediately rose and took up the tail on the guy. As he walked he mumbled into his mic, "Talk to me."

"That was Gary McCallister. Remember him?"

"Dropped out of the clandestine service about two years ago, or so I heard."

"Disappeared was more like it."

"You sure it's him? I didn't know him that well."

"He's changed. But what he didn't change was a tat on his shooting hand."

"What of?"

"Oh, pretty routine. A scorpion holding a gun with its stinger and the word 'Mom' inked on the scorpion's back."

"Okay, that sounds about as good as a fingerprint for ID."

"See where he goes."

"You think he's part of the missing personnel Montgomery was talking about?"

"I doubt this village is a hot destination, particularly in winter. No place to ski."

Gary McCallister turned down one corner and a few seconds later so did Castle. He said into his mic, "Parallel us on the next street over. Then take up the tail after the next intersection. I'll drop off and angle it over to the next street. We'll keep up that rotation all the way to where he's staying so he doesn't get suspicious."

"Copy that."

They exchanged the role of trailing Gary McCallister three times. The streets were crowded, which helped. Castle was behind him when Johnson went into what looked like a hostel. Castle went to a café across the street. He sat down at a table and waited.

A few minutes later Kate's voice came over the mic. "Room 21, second floor. I saw three other guys in there I could swear were just like us."

"I wonder how many they have."

"More than four, that's for sure."

"Anybody pay you any attention?"

"One guy looked at me a little too long, so I turned around and started speaking Croatian to the guy behind the desk in the lobby. He didn't understand me, but the guy lost interest and walked off. Good thing I had a little plastic surgery done. But you didn't, so keep low and your hat down and don't talk much unless it's in a foreign language."

"Right," said Castle.

"So what now?"

"We sit on McCallister and his team. Let them lead us where they'll lead us. You know what they're going to do?"

Kate said, "They'll have to recon the site and do a walk-through."

"That's probable."

"Do we hit them then?"

"Love to, but we have one problem."

"Our weapons are outside the checkpoints," she noted.

"Right. Now, McCallister wasn't wearing any security badges like the other grunts we've seen, so I'm wondering how they're getting their firepower. Because it has to be here somewhere. They're not going to beat these guys to death with sticks."

"Maybe it's waiting for them inside the security checkpoint," said Kate.

"Along with whatever else they're going to need to do this."

"Which might just solve our dilemma."

"And kill two birds with one stone."

"Would be nice," she commented.

"Yes, it would."

* * *

Gary McCallister was on the move late that night. And Castle and Kate, who had changed clothes and looked as different as possible from earlier, were right there with him.

The town was actually larger than it looked, and there were many streets and back alleys off the main roads. McCallister took one of these and kept going for about fifteen blocks until the snow globe town turned into something a little less picturesque.

As before, Kate and Castle took turns trailing McCallister. They were wearing layers, and when one broke off from the tail they would shed a layer and stuff it in the knapsack each of them carried. With different clothes and staggering their surveillance, even someone as trained McCallister would have been hard pressed to spot them.

But he was taking steps to make sure he wasn't followed. He continually crossed the street. And occasionally when he would pass a darkened plate glass window he would stop in front of it and pretend to look at the merchandise while he used the reflective surface to check who was around. Sometimes he would simply stop, turn around, and start walking in the opposite direction, his gaze swiveling in all directions. Castle and Kate knew all of these tricks but still had to hustle to keep their cover.

The trail finally ended at a large old building on the outskirts of town, far away from the scheduled event and security perimeter.

McCallister went inside and Kate and Castle stood next to each other in the deep shadows of a nearby alley.

"Warehouse?" said Castle.

"Or operations center more likely," said Kate.

"Then we need to get in."

"Tricky. It's probably better guarded than the Middle East event."

"And yet here we are just a few feet away with a target under surveillance."

The front door of the place opened and a man came out.

Castle lifted his night optics to his eyes and took a peek. He handed the optics to Kate, who watched the man slowly walk down the street.

"Judge Vulcan Simmons," said Kate.

"They brought in the big gun for the finale."

"That validates our decision to come here."

"Validates, but that's all."

"We need to split up," said Kate. "I'll take Simmons. You take the warehouse."

She started to head off, but he gripped her arm. "Follow, don't kill. We need him alive. For now."

She pulled free from his grip. "Do you really think you need to tell me how to do my job?"

"I'm thinking about your lost friends. Sometimes the temptation can be too great."

"I don't want just him. I want them all, Castle. And if he needs to keep breathing in order to do that, so be it."

"Just so we have it straight."

"We have it straight."

"Don't do anything rash okay?"

"Worry about yourself, Rick," replied Kate as she moved towards him and planted a small kiss on his forehead.

Of all the places.

They really did have bad timing.

She headed off into the darkness.

Castle watched her until she and Simmons disappeared into the night.

He turned his attention back to the building. Slowly he made his way around its footprint, checking out all entry and exit spots as he went along. Most of the windows were dark, but not all.

Three lighted windows, and he saw movement at two of them. They were all on the lower level.

He figured perimeter security was posted 24/7 if this was really their command center. And because Simmons had been here, Castle had to assume it was. So how to get in and then out with what they needed but no one the wiser?

"Pretty much impossible," he told himself as he crouched in the alley staring up at the building. But then another idea struck him.

He spoke into his mic. "Progress report?"

"Very little, actually. Still walking," answered Kate. "Don't think he's staying at the same place as the hired help. You?"

"Gonna try something."

"What does that mean exactly?" she said, sounding a little startled.

"It means exactly that I'll let you know when I'm done."

"Castle, if you're going to go in there I'm coming with you."

"I didn't say I was going in there."

"You didn't say you weren't either."

"I've been doing this sort of thing solo for a long time, okay?" he replied.

"Right, okay," she said, sounding sheepish. "Report back when you can. And please be safe okay?"

"I will and be on alert too."

Castle took a few careful steps out of the alley and peered upward. The front and rear doors were out. They would be guarded. The lower-level windows were out for the same reason.

That was why Castle was peering upward. He figured this strike team didn't have unlimited manpower. They would have to conserve what they did have and utilize it optimally. That meant not wasting it guarding portals that were literally out of reach.

But few things were truly out of reach. And this building was old. And the surface was brick. Uneven brick.

That meant there were supports for his feet.

The back of the building faced an abandoned structure. Castle gripped an edge of brick with fingers that were nearly as strong as steel. Handling a fifteen-pound sniper rifle, pulling triggers, and bracing for recoil to immediately fire again had made his grip one of the strongest things about him.

It would come in handy tonight.

He had to make the climb in darkness, because even a penlight would seem like a ship's beacon. But there was a dull glow of moonlight. That was both good and bad. Good if it made him see a handhold he ordinarily wouldn't have seen. Bad if they had a patrol passing around the outside of the building and one of them happened to look up.

He kept going, slipped twice, nearly fell once, but his hand finally gripped the ledge outside a darkened window and he lifted himself up and perched on the narrow space. The window was locked.

He pulled out his Swiss Army knife, which the security checkpoint had missed, and a few seconds later passed through the open window and dropped noiselessly to the floor. Now he used his penlight to see, because the darkness was nearly complete in here.

The room was empty except for a few odd pieces of furniture, some old paint cans, tarps, and rusted tools. It seemed someone was going to renovate the space and then thought better of it.

He moved to the door very slowly. The floors were wooden and old, and such floors creaked. He didn't take actual steps. He slid his feet along the floor to minimize the noise. He reached the door and put his ear to it.

He could hear sounds. But they all seemed to be coming from downstairs.

He shined his penlight on the hinges. They looked old and rusty. That wasn't good. They might sound like a fighter jet shrieking in when he opened it.

Castle looked around and his gaze lighted on the stack of paint cans, tools, and tarps. He slid over there, quietly rummaging around until his hand snagged a can of oil.

He went back over to the door and soaked the hinges with it. He let the lubricant seep deeply into the metal joints and then he slowly opened the door.

Thank God for small treasures, he thought as he peeked between the door and jamb.

The hall was clear.

He moved out into the corridor. There were three doors facing him across the hall, with stairs heading down in the middle of the landing.

He shuffled across the hall and over to the other doors. He pulled his knife, a poor weapon against guns, but all he had. The hall was thankfully dark, so he used his penlight to examine the lock and floor in front of the three doors.

Bits of rust were in front of only one door, the one obviously that had been opened. He noted that the hinges had been lubricated.

The door was locked. But with his knife it was unlocked ten seconds later.

He opened it, the hinges moving silently, and stepped in. He shut the door behind him and locked it.

He shined his light around.

In one corner, on pins, was a long line of clothing items. He examined some of them. Now the other side's plan started to take shape for him. It actually made sense. In fact, it was a tactic that had worked well for terrorists in other scenarios.

As he continued to look around he realized he had hit the jackpot. It looked like the armory at a military base. There were so many weapons here that Castle wondered how they could possibly miss a few. They were stacked haphazardly and weapons of different capabilities were mixed together. He could sense from this disorganization that the team here either lacked military precision or deemed their opponents too weak to put up much resistance. From what he had seen in the town so far, Castle opted for the latter explanation.

These weapons hadn't come in through the checkpoints. The people who had missed Castle's knife couldn't possibly have missed this. Either people had been paid off or, more likely, the weapons had been placed here before the checkpoints were set up.

Castle grabbed a few pistols, two small guns, and as much ammo as he could carry in his knapsack. Ideally, he could sabotage the rest of the weapons by knocking out the firing pins. But he didn't have the tools to do so. And it would take too much time and make too much noise.

But as he looked down at the weapons an idea occurred to him. He took photos of all of them with his cell phone.

What he was planning to do with these photos was incredibly risky, but in the end, he deemed the risk of not doing it far greater.

* * *

Kate was waiting for Castle at a small inn they had chosen as their rendezvous point. They had taken one room, and when Castle knocked on the door, she peeked through the peephole and let him in.

From under his coat and his knapsack he pulled out the weapons he'd taken and dropped them on the bed.

"You're okay. That's good," she said scanning him for injuries.

Kate picked up one MP5. "How much did they have?"

"Enough to take down this entire town and then some."

"How many men you figure?"

"At least two dozen, going by the amount of firepower. What happened with Simmons?"

"He's staying at the finest hotel in this little hamlet. I left him having a glass of sherry by the fireplace."

"What do you think his role is? He won't be in the attack itself. You said he was one of us, but that was a long time ago."

Kate shook her head. "I think he was sent here to oversee things. He was at the building where the weapons were. He probably went over the plan with the troops and their respective assignments."

"What do you think their exit plan is?"

"With the sort of firepower you saw, I would say they could easily shoot their way out of here. Private wings lifting off a private runway and they're out of the country."

"And Simmons?" asked Kate.

"He probably has some official role here as a representative of the U.S. He'll act as surprised as everyone else. He goes home, glad to be alive and properly mournful for all of the dead." He paused. "So we still think the opening ceremony is where it will happen?"

"It's in one big room, Castle. Open spaces, multiple firing lines once the security perimeter is pierced. No place to hide."

"So they exit, fly away, and Simmons goes home to report the success."

"But if we stop it here?"

He said, "We have to stop it here. We're the last line of defense."

"A damn thin line."

"I figure if they have two dozen guys nearly as good as we are, we can take out at least half of them, maybe two-thirds if luck and the element of surprise are on our side. That may be enough to save the day."

She gazed up at him, a smile playing across her lips. "Not a bad legacy. 'Castle and Beckett; they saved the world.'"

"At the sacrifice of their own lives?"

"Nobody's that lucky, Castle, not even the good guys." She picked up a pistol, checked the mag, and stuck it into her belt.

"We'll have to figure out where and how to hit them for maximum effect."

"The tactic they're going to employ will make that a little difficult." He explained what he had found in the room along with the guns.

Before he'd finished Kate was nodding. "I get that. But it allows some opportunities for us as well."

"Yes, it does."

"So it's a waiting game?"

Castle said, "Patience is a virtue. And tomorrow it'll be the only thing keeping us alive."

"You know we'll have two sides gunning for us as soon as we show our hand."

"We concentrate firepower on the target. They'll show their hand and we can only hope the official security understands what's going on."

"When shots are going off all around and people are running and screaming? It'll be mass confusion."

"That's why I said hope. We're going to have to split up."

"Two targets to shoot at."

"Right."

"But that means we dilute our fire concentrations."

"Can't be helped. Benefit outweighs the downside."

"Then let's pick our spots well." She paused, studied him. "If we manage to survive this, I've got another set of problems. I'm a wanted woman."

"Not by me. Not anymore. I'll help you, Kate."

"You can't do that, Castle. What you've done so far could be construed as treason. If you stop this, all will be forgiven. But not if you keep consorting with the enemy. And that happens to be me."

"Qualifying circumstances."

"Not proved. And probably won't matter even if they were. You know how the system works."

"You mean how the system doesn't work."

"Let's just see how tomorrow goes. Things might just take care of themselves," she added ominously.

"Okay," said Castle. "They just might."

There were going up against an army tomorrow and it felt like they were living the night before their deaths.

Castle flicked on the TV and a show had just started. It was the same one he had seen a preview back when he was waiting for Shaw to show up for their impromptu dinner date. The show had started with a death of a young woman and the crime scene indicated that it mirrored a scene written by a famous crime novelist.

He was about to change the channel but Kate stopped him by a wave of her hand.

"This looks interesting. Wonder what it's about."

"A Detective and a ruggedly handsome writer solve crimes together. I saw the preview."

They watched in a silence till the show took a break for the ads.

"You think they will make it?"

"I don't know yet. They do look like a good pair that understands each other."

Both of them watched the pilot episode in intrigue and smiled at some of the antics of the writer as they tried to solve the mystery of the young woman.

 _Hopefully they make it_ , thought Castle.

Here he was sitting in a hotel room waiting for a death sentence the very next day and he was hoping two fictional characters somehow make it.

 _Life, eh?_

He turned to look at Kate who was engrossed the television and completely oblivious of her surroundings. Sometimes the little things in life are the things that let people escape the reality they were in.

* * *

The next day brought upon a clear sky but with bitter cold. With each breath taken, tiny puffs of smoke rose into the air. The leaders of various Arab countries made their way to their official motorcades looking discomforted by the chill, their robes buffeted by the stiff breeze.

It was eight o'clock in the morning. People were tense. There was a collective feeling that the citizens of the town simply wanted this to be over. Their wish would come true shortly, but not in a way that they ever imagined.

There was only one way in and one way out of the building where the opening ceremony was taking place, which made it appealing from a security point of view. But it also had its disadvantages.

The motorcades drifted down the street with NYPD police providing the traffic security. There were a number of NYPD officers on their horses; they looked dazzling in their blue and black uniforms. But they were also brightly colored sitting ducks when it came to an actual armed confrontation.

Kate's and Castle's plan had come together at five in the morning.

Neither of them felt the least bit tired. Adrenaline trumped exhaustion.

Kate was across the street from ground zero, just beyond the security checkpoint. That was a no-go for her because she was armed to the teeth.

Castle stood on the opposite corner, nearer the building but again beyond the checkpoint. Jersey barriers had been erected to prevent a truck bomb from getting close enough to drop the structure. Thus there was barely enough room to get a single car through at a time.

Bottlenecks like that could cause other sets of security problems, but on the whole Castle felt the plan had been well thought out.

He checked his watch. It was nearly time. He said into his mic, "Just about there."

"I've counted seven motorcades so far. From my list that makes five more to go."

"They'll want them all in place. Give it a few minutes and then they'll pull the trigger."

"Here we go," said Kate.

Here we go, thought Castle.

The last motorcade pulled through and disgorged its occupants. They walked into the building and the setting was complete.

The program was on a tight schedule. Opening ceremonies and remarks would last forty-five minutes. After that the group would be dispersed to different places for other discussions and events. This was one of the few times all of them would be in the same place at the same time.

From the heightened looks of concern of the security arrayed around the place, this fact was not lost on them either.

Castle moved to an alley and his hand closed around the butt of his gun as he did so. He looked at his watch. The program had been going on for twenty minutes.

Tactically the attackers wouldn't want it to get close to the end on the off chance that any of the attendees left early. It was critical to get them all.

He said into his mic, "I think—"

That was as far as Castle got.

Flames shot out from the front door of the building and all four front windows. The same thing happened at the rear entrance.

Thirty seconds later the front of the building was engulfed in fire, blocking the entrance. The rear was similarly cut off.

Castle braced himself as he heard it coming. Fire trucks and ambulances raced down the street, sirens blaring.

Security let them through and the emergency vehicles screeched to a stop in front of the building. Men poured off the trucks and out of the ambulances.

Castle stepped out, his gun ready.

Kate did the same from across the street.

Castle fired and his shots blew out the front tires and windshield of an ambulance.

Kate killed one of the firefighters before he could deploy the rifle he had pulled from under his coat.

Both Kate and Castle opened fire directly on the group of men, forcing them to scurry for cover.

But before they could return fire someone shouted, "Freeze!"

Caste watched as an army of FBI and NYPD security agents charged forward from both ends of the street. They wore body armor and carried guns. Emerging from hiding places along rooftops were snipers who pointed their long barrels at the fake first responders and fired shots close enough to the heads of the targets to make them realize any resistance would result in a slaughter.

So the targets did the only thing they could do.

They gave up.

A minute later more than twenty men were on their knees on the street, hands over their heads, with an array of pointed guns keeping them there.

Castle came forward and greeted her. Jordan Shaw had on body armor and held her pistol in her right hand. Her smile was wide and welcoming.

She said, "Thanks for the heads-up last night. And the photos of the arsenal you found. Couldn't really believe it at first, but you were very convincing. And in turn, I was very convincing with my superiors. And I can't tell you what good things this will do for my career."

Castle looked over as two men came forward holding another man between them. Vulcan Simmons didn't look very pleased at the sudden turn of events. But he wasn't saying anything either. No protests of innocence. No demands to know why he was being held.

Castle stared at the man. When Simmons caught his gaze he stiffened. Castle thought he caught a hint of a resigned smile pass over the man's features.

"You can help us," said Castle quietly. "You know what we need."

"I highly doubt that I can help you or myself."

"Going to claim that you know nothing about this?"

"Not at all. It's just that dead men don't make capable witnesses."

"Come again?"

"Can I tell you something?"

"A name would do."

"No, the message is much simpler." He smiled and said, "Goodbye, Castle."

The two men stared directly at each other.

"Castle!"

Castle turned and saw Kate on the other side of the street.

She shouted, "Castle! McCallister isn't there. He's not there."

Castle looked over at the line of men on their knees in the street. He glanced down the faces one by one.

McCallister wasn't there.

Castle started to move, but knew he was already too late.

The shot hit Simmons full in the chest which threw him in the ground.

Castle had looked back at Simmons a second before the round hit.

There had been no fear in the man's features.

Just resignation.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

Castle and Shaw were sitting in the lobby of the local police station. The fire had been put out and the event had been moved to another location. At first it seemed likely to be canceled. But after the FBI promised to help with security for the event, the participants had changed their minds and agreed to go forward.

The hit team was being held in cells under the eye of both NYPD special agents and the FBI. The joint mission had come together quickly. The FBI was taken seriously by everyone in the world. It also didn't hurt that the NYPD were such close allies. And the last thing they wanted was a slaughter of foreign leaders on their soil.

Vulcan Simmons body was lying on a freezer bed inside a mobile forensics unit.

McCallister had so far eluded capture.

"Who was the woman who called out to you?" asked Shaw.

Kate had disappeared into the crowd after warning Castle about McCallister.

"Someone who was working with me on this to stop it. I can fill you in on her later."

"Okay. So they were planning to take out all these leaders at one time?"

"Seems like it."

"Would've created a global nightmare."

"Probably their plan."

"How did you guys get keyed in on this?"

"Chatter, bits and pieces here and there that we followed up on."

"Always thought having this summit here was kind of weird. I mean, the G8 was having a conference on terrorism in England at the same time. Did you know that?"

"Read about it in the papers," Castle said vaguely.

"I'm glad you called us in, don't get me wrong. But why wouldn't you have your own team in place for this? I mean the CIA can operate legally here."

"Not sure the higher ups see it that way right now. Some hard feelings between us over some past agency actions. We felt the FBI would be the right element to call in to provide the backup once we nailed down the target." None of this was true, but it was also the only explanation Castle could think of.

"I guess the important thing is it didn't happen, right?"

"That's the way I look at it."

"But the guy who was killed? We identified him. He's a federal judge. How does that figure into this?"

"Not sure yet. I think it'll take some time to dig through all of it. If I had to guess—and that's all it would be—he might have been paid off. And maybe he wasn't always a judge."

"Right. He seemed to know who you were," said Shaw suspiciously.

"Just the way it worked out," said Castle, not meeting her eye.

"So this was what you were working on that you had to go off the grid?"

Castle nodded.

"And I'm assuming that this is somehow tied to Dick Coonan's and Josh Davidson's deaths?"

"And John Raglan's."

"Raglan's? How does he figure into this?"

"I'm not sure, Shaw. It's still pretty cluttered."

She looked put off. "Don't think that I'm accepting all your answers at face value. I know you too well. You talk the bullshit really well, but at the end of the day, that's still all it is."

"I'm telling you all I know."

"You mean you're telling me all you can." She studied him closely and then apparently decided to change direction. "Castle, the men we've arrested. They . . . they look like . . ."

"There's a lot of freelance talent out there. And we trained a ton of it."

"So mercenaries?" she said.

"Probably so."

"Now we just have to find out who hired them."

"We might never know."

"No, we'll get there. I'm thinking that Coonan and Josh might have stumbled onto something. The other side found out and killed them. Maybe something with Raglan too." She snapped her fingers. "He's head of the Intelligence Committee. There's the connection right there."

"You might be right."

"We'll see. Like you said, these things tend to get muddled."

Yes, they do, thought Castle.

"When are you heading back?" asked Shaw.

"Got a few things to clear up here and then I'll be reporting in. I'm sure our agencies will be burning up secure lines hashing this one out. Sometimes the truth complicates things."

"I don't think so. Not here. Good guys officially kicked the crap out of the bad guys. They can't put any spin on that one. And the U.S. just scored some serious points with the Middle East. We just saved their collective ass. And I've seen a list of the attendees. There are some on there who are no fans of ours."

"No, they're not. But maybe they will be now." He rose. "I better get going."

"You see, Castle, sometimes communication is a very good thing."

Castle had not gone ten steps down the sidewalk when the voice in his ear said, "On your three."

He looked over to where Kate was staring at him from the far corner. He hurried over and they walked down an alley.

"Simmons is dead," he said.

"That was easy to see."

"McCallister is nowhere to be seen."

"He was the fail-safe. Simmons knew everything. The other guys just had their piece. They won't be able to lead us anywhere. Firewalled out of the loop. Simmons was the key, and McCallister was tasked to keep back and take him out if things went wrong."

"Agreed."

Kate's voice turned harsh. "But why didn't you tell me about the FBI?"

"Did you need to know?"

"I thought we were a team on this."

"I thought that if you knew the FBI was going to swarm in you might have done things differently."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning you're a wanted person."

"What did you tell them about me, by the way?"

"That we were tasked to stop this by the agency."

"And Coonan and Josh?"

"They believe they were killed by the people behind the planned hit here. I told them I thought they were on the right track with that theory."

"I doubt that Shaw is going to stop there. She doesn't seem the type to take anybody's word in place of an investigation and her own conclusion."

"She's not. What I did back there was just a temporary solution. Just to give us some time."

"Okay."

"But it can't end there, Kate."

She looked over her shoulder. "I've been thinking about nothing except that ever since I started on this."

"There are ways," Castle began.

"There are no ways, Castle, not for this. It has one possible outcome and it's not a good one for me. But you'll be okay. In fact, if I were you I'd go back to Shaw right now and just tell her the truth. The more you try to cover for me the worse it will be for you when the truth does comes out."

Castle didn't budge. "You really want to waste time arguing over something that stupid?"

"It's not stupid. It's your future."

"I'm not going anywhere, Kate. That's my decision, and I'm sticking to it."

"You're sure?"

"Don't ask me again."

"But just so you understand the possible consequences."

"Someone gave the order to McCallister to take out Simmons. I want that person."

"Loose ends, Castle. They'll be finding McCallister's body any minute now. That idiot was dead as soon as he pulled the trigger on Simmons. No way they're going to leave him alive."

"We're loose ends too," he said.

"That's right, we are," she said, looking suddenly cheerful.

"What?" said Castle, noting her upbeat expression.

"Loose ends are a two-way street. They want to get to us. But to get to us they have to come to us."

"And that gives us a shot at getting them first," he said.

"I'm done hitting singles too, Castle. It's time to go for the shot out of the park."

"How exactly do we do that?"

"You just have to trust me. Like I've been trusting you this whole time."

"What exactly is your plan? We've got nothing."

"I'm not really into sports, but I've been doing some basic research," she replied.

"On what?"

"On Jackie the Westie."

"Do you know who it is?"

"Actually, I think I do."

"Proof?"

"A witness."

"Where can we find the witness?"

"We don't have to."

She walked off.

When he didn't follow she turned back and said, "Despite what you just said, if you're out I need to know, right now. I'll have to adjust my plan and fly this one solo. But either way, it's happening."

"Because of your friends?"

"Because I don't like getting crapped on. I don't like traitors. And, yeah, because of my friends."

"I'm in," he said.

"Then come on."

Castle followed her shoulder to shoulder towards their next destination.

* * *

The White House.

It was often a place of near chaos buffered by moments of intense calm, like the eye of a hurricane. One could tell that inches past the serenity lurked possible bedlam.

This was one of the serene moments. The precise location of the possibly hovering bedlam was as of yet unknown.

They were in the Oval Office. It was reserved for symbolic moments that often were attended by dozens of photographers. There were no photographers here today, but it was a symbolic moment nonetheless.

Castle sat in one chair. Across from him was William Bracken. The president was perched on a couch. Next to him in a separate chair was National Security Advisor Perlmutter. Completing the party was Gates, looking slightly awed to be once more in the presence of such august company.

"This is getting to be a routine, Castle," said the president affably.

"I hope it doesn't actually become one, sir," said Castle.

His suit was dark, his shirt white, and his tie as dark as his suit. His shoes were polished. Next to the others, with their colorful ties, he looked like a man attending a funeral. Maybe his own.

"The exact details of what was going on are still coming out, albeit slowly," said Perlmutter.

"I doubt we'll ever know the whole truth," said Bracken. "And you'll never get me to believe that Dick Coonan was involved in any of this." He glanced at Castle. "And the people responsible for his death, and that of Josh Davidson, will be brought to justice."

Castle simply stared back and said nothing.

The president cleared his throat and the other men sat up straighter. "I believe that we dodged a very large bullet. This is not the time for celebration, of course, because we have tough times ahead."

"Agreed, Mr. President," said Bracken. "And I can assure you that my agency will do all it can to ensure that those tough times are met head-on."

Castle and Perlmutter shared a raised eyebrow over that comment.

Perlmutter waited until it seemed the president wasn't going to respond to Bracken's statement. "I agree that we have many problems ahead of us. If, as Mr. Castle believes, there were moles at the agency—"

"For the record that is a statement I highly dispute," interjected Bracken.

The president put up his hands. "William, no one is testifying here. Perlmutter is just saying that we need to get to the bottom of this. As much as we can, at least."

Perlmutter continued, "If there are moles at the agency, then that needs to be resolved. We have four dead men who were all highly placed in various sectors of this country. We have a near catastrophe averted in New York thanks to the actions of Mr. Castle and the FBI. What we have to do is connect the dots between the two."

"Of course," said Bracken. "I never said there shouldn't be an investigation."

"A thorough one," added Perlmutter.

"Do we have any new leads on who killed Coonan and Josh?" asked the president.

"Not yet," said Gates.

They all turned to look at her, as though they had forgotten she was even there.

He continued, "But we are hoping for that status to change."

The president said, "And this McCallister person?"

"McCallister," said Perlmutter, looking at his notes. He glanced up at Bracken. "He once worked for the CIA."

The president shot a look at Bracken. "From one of ours to one of theirs, William? How is that possible?"

"McCallister was a washout, sir. If he hadn't disappeared, one day he would have been let go."

"He wasn't the only one, sir," said Castle. "Of the twenty-odd people the FBI arrested, half of them had ties to the agency. And that doesn't include Cole Maddox out in Arkansas."

"Cole Maddox was fired," snapped Bracken, "and I am well aware of the others, Castle. Thank you, though, for pointing it out," he added sarcastically.

"But the ultimate goal," began the president. "Obviously, taking out all those leaders would have led to great upheaval in the Arab world. But was that the only reason?" He glanced around at the others with a questioning look.

Bracken shot a piercing look at Perlmutter, who did not seem to notice it. He glanced at Castle. There seemed to be an understanding between Castle and the APNSA. In fact, they had spoken before the meeting.

Perlmutter cleared his throat and said, "It could be that whoever was behind this had plans to replace the dead leaders with others who believed as they did."

"So it was internal?" said the president. "Meaning factions competing for power within the Middle East were behind the attack in New York?"

"That appears to be the case," said Perlmutter.

"Well, thank God it didn't come to pass," said the president.

"Yes, thank God," added Bracken.

The door to the Oval Office opened and the president's "body man" looked in. It was his job to keep the president on schedule.

"Sir, two-minute warning before your next meeting."

The president nodded and rose. "Gentlemen, you will keep me posted on how this goes. I want to know about any new developments. We will maintain the status quo until such time as conditions on the ground dictate otherwise, but I want a full-court press on this."

They gave him their assurances, shook hands, and said their goodbyes.

On the way out, Castle cornered Gates. "We haven't spoken in a while."

"You've been off the grid for a while."

"I took your advice. It turned out to be good advice."

Gates drew closer to Castle and spoke in a low voice. "And her?"

Castle nodded. "As good as advertised."

"What will happen to her?"

"I don't know. If it were up to me she walks free."

"It's not up to you," pointed out Gates.

"Like the president said, we maintain the status quo until conditions on the ground dictate otherwise."

"And you really think the conditions on the ground are going to change?"

"Actually, they always do."

"But not here."

"Especially here," said Castle.

Castle caught up to Bracken as he was about to climb into his SUV outside the White House.

"Give us a minute," Bracken said to his aide as he glanced questioningly at Castle. The two men strolled a few feet away.

"Interesting meeting," said Castle.

"Why did I think I was being ganged up on?" Bracken said accusingly.

"What did you expect? Your agency is in the middle of this whole thing."

"You're really close to getting your ass canned."

"I don't think so."

Bracken snarled, "You work for me, Castle."

"I work for the guy in the White House. And if you want to get really technical, the American people are actually my boss."

"That's not how it works, and you know it."

"What I know is that people are dead. And not just the bad guys."

"Who are you talking about, exactly?"

"A woman named Viola. And a guy named Mike Royce. And a guy named Javier."

"I don't know who they are."

"They were good people."

"So you knew them?"

"Not really, no. But someone I respect vouched for them. So watch your back, Director."

Castle turned to walk away.

"Who do you respect, Castle? Would that be Beckett? The person who murdered two of my people?"

Castle turned back. "They might have been people, Director. But they weren't your people."

Castle walked off.

Bracken stared after him for a few moments and then stalked to his vehicle.

Through the gates of the White House watching all of this was Katherine Beckett.

She and Castle exchanged a glance and she turned and strode off.

* * *

Castle waited on the bench at Roosevelt Island, right across from the Kennedy Center in the Potomac River. In the middle of a million people the small island was heavily wooded, isolated, and private. It was not open to the public today, which made it even more private. There was a good reason for this.

It was a fine day, bright, sunny, and warmer than normal.

Castle looked up at some birds soaring by and then his attention turned to the man coming down the path toward him. He was walking slowly. He saw Castle and gave a small wave before taking his time heading over.

He sat, unbuttoned his jacket, and leaned back.

"Nice day," said Castle.

"It will be nicer when we nail the bastard," said Perlmutter.

"I'm looking forward to that too."

"You spooked Bracken after our meeting."

"He was definitely on the defensive."

"As he should be. Bracken is a disgrace, but difficult as it is to admit, I don't see how we do it, Castle. The proof just isn't there. No matter how hard we want it to be."

"The shooters had been with the agency."

"His motive?"

"With the world gone to hell the CIA would skyrocket right to the top in budget dollars and turf. The twin holy grails of the intelligence sector."

Perlmutter shook his head. "Circumstantial only. His lawyers would tear that to pieces. Not one of the shooters had anything useful?"

"They were out of the loop. Hired guns only. Simmons is dead. Coonan, Raglan, Josh. All loose ends tied up."

"He was efficient, I'll give him that."

"One mistake, though."

"What's that?"

"We have one loose end that was forgotten."

"What?" asked Perlmutter eagerly.

"A who, sir. A woman. Dr. Meredith. She worked at the CIA as a physician. She was the one who put the tracker device on me. She knew Cole Maddox. And she knew about the white paper."

"White paper?"

"We called it the apocalypse paper. It diagrammed in careful detail an attack on the G8, country by country, assassination by assassination, and executed by terrorists. Then it outlined what would be done after the killings to maximize the global chaos."

"But the attack in New York centered on Arab leaders, not the G8."

"Right. They took Maddox's document and reversed it. An attack on Arab leaders by—" Here Castle fell silent.

"Not by factions in the Middle East," said Perlmutter. "As we told the president. But by Bracken and those idiots at CIA who can't seem to get this nation-building crap out of their system."

"I'm afraid new evidence cuts against that conclusion, sir."

"New evidence?"

Castle waved his hand, motioning over the person who had just appeared on the entrance path. Perlmutter saw the woman coming forward, her steps hesitant.

"I had her locked up in a little hideaway," said Castle. "I was fearful for her safety."

Meredith stopped in front of them. Castle said, "I'd introduce you, but you two already know each other."

Perlmutter stared up into the woman's frightened features. Then he turned to Castle. "I'm not sure what's going on here."

"A friend of mine did some research on you and had an epiphany. Did you enjoy playing football at the Notre Dame with Robert 'Jackie' Griffin I? He was a couple of years ahead of you and you played on the D-line and he was the QB. But it still must've been a thrill for you. Heisman Trophy winner, Notre Dame's last one. Hall of famer. Super Bowl winner and MVP. Pretty awesome."

"It was, actually, but I think we need to get back to the matter at hand."

"He had a nickname too when he played. RG1 the Scrambler. The running quarterback. The man from the west of Texas who had given up Stanford to join Notre Dame. What was that nickname again?"

Meredith said in a small voice, "Jackie the Westie."

"That's it," said Castle. "Jackie the Westie. Same handle that the person gave Cole Maddox. Maddox sent him the apocalypse paper. That's where this all started. Now, I don't think it was Robert." He pointed at Perlmutter. "I think it was you."

"I am very confused here, Castle. You and I have already discussed this. We put the blame squarely on William Bracken. You grilled him after the meeting with the president with my full blessing."

"Just done to throw you off your guard. To get you to come here and meet to discuss what you thought would be Bracken's professional destruction. Bracken's a prick, but he's not a traitor. You're the traitor."

Perlmutter slowly stood and looked down at him. "I can't tell you how disappointed I am. And I'm more offended than disappointed."

"I've spent my whole working life killing bad guys, sir. One monster after another. One terrorist at a time. I'm good at it. I want to continue to do it."

"After these accusations today, I'm not sure you'll be able to, quite frankly."

"Patience at an end? Didn't want to wait for people like me to keep pulling triggers? Wanted to clear the game board in one move?"

"If you have one shred of evidence, you better reveal it now."

"Well, we have Dr. Meredith here, who will testify that she worked with you directly to set this up. And that she put a tracker into my body on your orders."

Perlmutter stared menacingly at Meredith. "Then she would be lying and she will be charged with perjury and she will go to prison for a very long time."

"I just don't see this going to a trial."

"Once the president hears of this I am sure that—"

Castle cut him off. "The president has already been briefed. Everything I've just said, he's already been told. It was at his suggestion that I meet with you."

"His suggestion?" Perlmutter said blankly. Castle nodded.

"But there is no evidence tying me to any of this."

"There is evidence, beyond Meredith here. Sir, you might want to sit down before you fall down."

His legs shaky, Perlmutter sat back down on the bench. "You said you don't see this going to trial?"

"Too much of an embarrassment for the country. We don't need that. There are lots of terrorists out there. That would hurt our ability to go after them. You don't want that, right?"

"Of course not."

Castle looked up at Meredith. "Thank you. There are people waiting for you over there." He pointed to his left where two men in suits hovered.

After she walked off, Castle said, "Your security detail has been dismissed, by the way."

Perlmutter glanced in the direction from which he had come. "I see."

"Your resignation might be in order."

"Did the president suggest that too?" Perlmutter said dully.

"Let's just say that he didn't object when it was raised." Castle looked at the man. "Did you know Mike Royce?"

Perlmutter slowly shook his head. "Not personally, no."

"Retired U.S. marshal. Good guy. Got in with Simmons, gained his trust. Found out what was going on. You had him killed. And a woman named Viola. Nice old lady. And a former agency guy named Javier Esposito. They all meant the world to a friend of mine."

"What friend would that be?" But Castle could tell that Perlmutter already knew the answer.

Castle pointed to his right. "Her."

Perlmutter looked to where Castle was pointing.

Katherine Beckett stood ten feet from them, her gaze on nothing other than Perlmutter.

Castle stood and walked down the trail to the exit. He never once looked back.

The island in the middle of a million people now contained only two people.

Sidney Perlmutter.

And Katherine Beckett holding a pistol.

To his credit, Perlmutter looked unafraid.

"I've been to war, Ms. Beckett," he said by way of explanation as she drew close to him. "I've seen many people die. And I almost died myself a couple of times. You never get used to it, of course. But the shock level is diluted."

"Viola Maddox, Mike Royce, and Javier Esposito did die," she replied. "You had them killed."

"Yes, I did. But the world is complicated, Ms. Beckett."

"And it's also extremely simple."

"You look at it in different ways. You think you see an opportunity for improvement. Vast improvement. And sometimes you take it. That's what we did here. We were tired of the killing, the chaos, and always being at the edge of the abyss. We just wanted a more stable, peaceful world by having people we could actually deal with in power over there. A few lives to save millions? How can that possibly be wrong?"

"I'm not here to judge what you did. That's really not my concern." She raised her weapon. "There have to be others besides the ones we know. Who are they?"

He shook his head and smiled grimly. "Now, do you want me to kneel? Do you want me to stand? Whatever you say I'll do. You have the gun, after all."

"You have family."

For the first time Perlmutter looked concerned. "They knew nothing of any of this."

"I don't care."

"I would please ask you to not harm them. They're innocent."

"Viola was innocent. And so were Esposito and Mike. And they had families."

"What do you want?"

"Who else was behind this?"

"I can't."

"Then I'll start with your oldest daughter. She lives in Ohio. And after that your wife. And then your sister, and I'll keep going until there's no one left." She pointed her pistol at his head. "Who else?" she asked.

"It won't matter. They're outside this country, completely untouchable."

"Who else? I won't ask again."

Perlmutter gave her three names.

She said, "Congratulations, you just saved your family."

"You give me your word that you will not harm them?"

"Yes. And unlike some people, I do keep my word."

"Thank you."

"One more thing. Montgomery?"

"He was too close to figuring things out. It pained me, but there was too much at stake."

"You're a bastard."

"So stand or kneel?" he said.

"I don't care, really. But I want you to close your eyes."

"Excuse me?"

"Close your eyes."

"I will have no trouble watching you kill me," Perlmutter replied.

"It's not for your benefit. It's for mine."

Perlmutter closed his eyes and waited for his life to end.

When no shot came and the minutes passed by, Perlmutter finally opened his eyes.

The island now contained only one person.

Just like Richard Castle.

Katherine Beckett was gone.

"I couldn't do it, Rick. I couldn't pull the trigger," Kate told Castle.

It was later that afternoon. They were sitting in Castle's apartment. Kate looked totally dejected. Sitting inches apart with a glass of wine in their hands.

"It was sanctioned," he said.

"I know it was sanctioned." She paused. "I told him to close his eyes. Like you told me to. When he opened them I was gone." She looked up at him. "Just like you were."

"It was your choice. But I have to say I'm surprised."

She let out a long breath. "You let me live, Castle, when everything you've done the last dozen years was telling you to pull the trigger on me."

Castle sat down next to her. "You didn't deserve to die, Kate."

"I killed people. Just like Perlmutter."

"It's not the same."

She snapped, "At every important level it is the same."

Castle remained silent.

Kate wiped her face. "He was just an old, tired man sitting there. And he wasn't afraid of dying." She rose, went to the window, and stared out, her forehead pressed to the cool glass. "I couldn't pull the trigger, Castle, even though I wanted to."

"He wasn't an old, tired man. He was quite the warrior on the football field and off. Special forces in Vietnam, killed his share of the enemy. He was quite the badass in his day. And during his tenure as the APNSA, he orchestrated the killing of more members of terrorist organizations than any of his predecessors. He always goes for the jugular. Not a guy you would want against you. Simmons found that out. So did Raglan."

"So why are you telling me all this?" Kate asked.

"To let you know that you have more compassion than he or I do. I would have shot him and not even thought twice about it. And he would have done the same to you."

"So what will happen to Perlmutter?"

Castle shrugged. "Not our concern. I don't see him going to trial, do you?"

"So...?"

"So just because you didn't pull the trigger doesn't mean that someone else won't. Or maybe they'll bury him in some cell at Guantanamo."

"Pretty high-level guy to go out like that. Media will be all over it."

"The media can be controlled. But let's hope no more high-level guys attempt something like this."

"So what happens to me now?" she asked.

Castle knew the question was coming. It was certainly a legitimate one. And yet he wasn't sure he knew the answer.

"The fact that they sent you after Perlmutter tells me that things are back to the status quo." He looked at her. "Is that what you want?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure I'll ever know. If I couldn't pull the trigger on Perlmutter, who's to say I'll ever be able to pull the trigger again?"

"You're the only one who can ultimately answer that."

"I'm not sure I'll ever be able to answer it."

"There is some good news."

"What?"

"Roy Montgomery came out of his coma."

Kate's eyes widened. "Castle's, there might be others out there. If they know that, He'll be dead in—"

He held up his hand. "No he won't."

"Why?"

"Cerebral hemorrhage. He's not...he'll never be the same as he once was."

"And that's good news?"

"He'll get to live. Get to start over with his family without the burden of the covert world." He paused. "Would you like to see him?"

Kate nodded.

Two hours later they stood at the bedside of Roy Montgomery. His head had been shaved and deep suture marks were stamped on his scalp where major surgery had been performed to relieve pressure on his brain. His eyes were open and he stared up at them.

Kate reached out and took his hand. "Hello, Roy," she said in a husky voice. "Do you remember me?"

Montgomery stared up, but no recognition came to his features.

"My name is—" Kate broke off. "I'm just a friend. An old friend who you helped a long time ago."

Kate looked down when Montgomery squeezed her fingers. Kate smiled.

"You're going to be okay," she said.

Kate looked over at Castle. "We're going to be okay."

 _No we're not_ , thought Castle.

A few seconds later his cell phone buzzed. He looked down at the screen. The message was short but definitely to the point.

They were being summoned.

And now it starts.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

The room was too small to hold everyone who was there. On one side of the table sat Castle and Beckett. On the other side were William Bracken, Gates, and the acting APNSA, Carl Villante, who was much younger than Sidney Perlmutter, barely in his forties. Castle didn't envy his coming into this situation.

Bracken slid a USB stick across the table. Castle and Kate looked at it, but neither made a move to pick it up.

Bracken said, "New mission."

"For both of you," added Villante.

Bracken said, "We're giving you a second chance, Beckett."

"I never asked for one."

"Let me put it this way. We're giving you your only chance. You murdered two people from the CIA, for God's sake. You should be in prison. Do you know how unbelievably generous this offer is?"

Villante cleared his throat and sat forward. "Let me just say that these are extraordinary conditions and that everyone here is under enormous stress. As the new man in the loop I also want to say that putting this behind us is a priority. I think we can all agree on that."

Kate said, "Coonan and Josh were traitors. I just didn't wait for the sanction order. I'm sure it would have been forthcoming."

Gates added, "And the agency has uncovered evidence tying both of them to the plot. Vulcan Simmons left files behind. So what Ms. Beckett did was serve her country."

"Bullshit!" snapped Bracken. "You are a murderer, Beckett, nothing will ever change that."

"Your objection is duly noted, Director," said Villante in a calming tone. "But the 'offer' has been authorized at a level above any in this room. So let's just focus on that instead of exercising histrionics."

Castle was not looking at Bracken or Villante. He was looking at Gates.

And Gates was doodling on a piece of paper.

Castle did not take this as a good sign.

Castle said, "Can we get a preview?"

"Like I said, a second chance," replied Bracken. "Samoor? Syria? He's still there. We need him taken care of."

"Little dicey to go in now," said Castle.

"If she had done her job before instead of shooting Josh Davidson in the back, we wouldn't be having this conversation," barked Bracken. "It's gotten to the critical stage. We believe that Samoor is partnering with terrorist groups and will soon offer them training, resources, and official cover into other countries if he comes to power, which looks likely. That obviously can't be allowed to happen."

"So we both go?" said Kate, watching Bracken.

He spread his hands. "Like Castle said, it's dicey right now. We believe the odds of success are increased with both of you going in."

"Which of us takes the shot?" asked Castle.

Villante pointed at Kate. "She does. You're the spotter."

"She has to finish the mission, Castle," added Bracken. "That is the official deal. She does that, as far as this country is concerned, the slate is wiped clean."

"I'd like that in writing," said Kate.

"In writing?" Bracken scoffed. "Where the hell are you coming from asking for that?"

"From a place called 'I don't trust you,'" she answered.

"You don't have a damn choice," thundered Bracken.

Villante held up a hand. "Look, maybe we can accommodate you."

"Whatever you want to call it, I don't care. All I want is someone really high up's ass on the line that says you will honor the deal."

"We could put you in prison," said Bracken. "So how about you go kill Samoor and our 'agreement' is you don't rot in a jail cell?"

Kate looked at Villante. "So accommodate me."

"How high up do you want the sign to be?" asked Villante.

"Way higher than either of you," she said.

"That is a short list."

"And don't I know it."

Villante looked at Bracken, who sat back, folded his arms across his chest, rocked back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling, looking for all the world like an overgrown child who had just had his crayons taken away.

"Okay," said Villante. "Consider it done."

Kate scooped up the USB stick. "Nice bargaining with you."

She and Castle started to leave.

"Castle, hold up," said Bracken. "We have matters to discuss with you separate from this."

Kate looked at Castle and shrugged. "I'll be outside."

She left.

Bracken motioned for Castle to retake his seat. "She's a liability."

"I don't see it that way," said Castle. "And why are you really sending me along? She doesn't need a spotter."

"Because you are to make sure that she comes back. She is going to be held responsible for her crimes," said Bracken.

"You mean for killing traitors?"

"I mean for murdering two of my people."

"And the deal you gave her?"

Bracken looked triumphant. "There is no deal."

Castle glanced at Villante. "You just told her there was a deal."

Villante looked uncomfortable. "I'm usually a man of my word, Castle. But this is out of my hands."

Bracken pointed a finger at Castle. "And just to be clear, if you tell her the truth your ass will be in a prison cell until the day you die. We've got you on all sorts of aiding and abetting the enemy, meaning Katherine Beckett."

Castle looked over at Gates, who was still doodling on her paper. "What do you think about this?" he asked her.

Gates looked up, thought for a moment. "I think you should go. And do your duty."

Castle and Gates gazed at each other for a long moment. Then Castle rose. "See you on the other side," he said, before going out the door.

Gates caught up with him before he left the building.

"Was that bullshit back there from you?" Castle asked.

"It was actually the best advice I could give you under the circumstances." She put out her hand. "Good luck."

Castle hesitated and then shook it.

Gates walked off and Castle left the building.

Kate was waiting for him at his car. They got in.

Kate said, "What did they want with you?"

"Doesn't really matter, now that I know."

"Know what?"

Castle held up the piece of paper that Gates had slipped him.

Kate looked at the two letters Gates had written on it.

They were both lowercase d's.

She gazed up at Castle. They both knew exactly what it meant.

"Double cross," said Kate.

"Double cross," repeated Castle.

* * *

The mission was small and the company selected to sit in on this particular mission few in number.

Villante, the APNSA.

Bracken, the head of CIA.

The new number two at CIA, who looked slightly gun-shy, since his two predecessors had been killed and permanently incapacitated, respectively.

The director of homeland security.

A ramrod-straight, white-haired three-star from the Pentagon.

And Gates.

On one wall was a mass of giant TV screens on which real-time satellite downloads were streaming across. The people in the room sat in comfortable chairs around a rectangular table. Bottles of water sat in front of each of them. They could be getting ready to watch every NFL game being broadcast.

Or another type of contest from a half a world away.

Villante checked one of the digital clocks on the wall. "One hour away," he said, and Bracken nodded.

"Everything in place?" asked the three-star.

"Everything's in place," replied Bracken. He had on a headset and was receiving communications from assets on the ground. This was hard to do in a place like Syria, but the United States had enough muscle to do just about anything just about anywhere.

He hit a button on the control console in front of his chair and one screen flicked to the sniper nest set up in an empty office building in downtown Damascus.

"It was fortunate that Samoor's people never learned of the assassination attempt," said Bracken. "In fifty-seven minutes he's going to find himself in the crosshairs once more."

"When does Beckett arrive at the nest?" asked Villante.

"In ten minutes."

"And Castle?"

"His spotter site is set up on the street opposite where Samoor will be getting out."

"And their exit?" asked the director of homeland security.

"Planned and polished and we expect it to work," said Bracken vaguely.

"But everything is a risk," added Villante quickly. "Especially over there."

The three-star nodded approvingly. "It takes balls to do what your people do. Sending two in with light weapons and no backup. We send our guys into tough situations, but they have a lot more firepower and resources. And we don't leave people behind."

"They're the best we have," said Gates, drawing hard stares from Bracken and Villante.

"I'm sure," said the three-star. "Well, godspeed to them."

"Godspeed," mouthed Gates.

A voice spoke in Bracken's ear. He turned to the others and said, "Castle has just communicated in. He'll be in position in five minutes. Beckett will be in the sniper's nest in seven minutes. Everything looks good. Samoor will be leaving the government building right about now. He will be out of target for the next forty-eight minutes. Then they'll have a two-minute window to—"

Bracken broke off speaking for a very understandable reason. On the TV screens, screaming people were suddenly running down the streets of Damascus. Guns were being fired into the air. Sirens were starting up.

"What the hell?" barked Villante.

Bracken was transfixed by what was happening on the screen.

Villante grabbed him by the shoulder. "What's going on?"

Bracken spoke into his headset, demanding an explanation for the sudden chaos on the streets.

"They're trying to find out. They don't know yet."

"Dial up Castle," demanded Villante. "He's right there."

Bracken attempted to do so. "He's not answering. He's gone silent."

"Beckett, then. Get somebody, for God's sake."

"Look," said the three-star.

Syrian security forces were hanging out the window of the room where the sniper's nest was set up.

"How the hell did they get there so fast? Beckett isn't even there. She hasn't fired a shot yet," added the DHS director.

"The whole operation has been compromised," said Bracken. "There's been a breach somewhere." He exchanged a glance with Villante. "This was not supposed to happen."

"And Samoor got away? Again?" snapped the three-star.

"He was not supposed to get away," Bracken muttered under his breath.

"For Christ's sake," said Villante. "Can't we get anything right?"

"Hold on," said Bracken. "Something's coming through now."

He listened to the voice in his ear. His expression went from stunned concern to absolute amazement.

"Copy that," he said.

"What is it?" screamed Villante when Bracken didn't say anything else.

Bracken turned to the others, his face white. "Samoor was just shot outside the government building, while he was getting into his car. He's dead. It's been confirmed through reliable sources."

"Thank God for that," said the three-star. "But I don't understand. Did the mission change? The hit was supposed to be outside the hotel."

"The mission didn't change. Not on our end," said Gates calmly.

The DHS director was staring at the Syrians swarming over the sniper's nest. "What I don't get is how they were onto the sniper's nest so fast." He turned to Bracken. "It's almost like they knew the hit was coming."

"A breach, like we said," Bracken responded, still looking ghostly pale.

"But Beckett and Castle must've known about it. That's why they made the switch to the government building and did the hit there," explained Villante quickly.

"But that doesn't make sense," said the three-star.

"Why not?" asked Bracken.

"You said Castle just reported in. He was getting into position as the spotter outside the hotel. And he also reported that Beckett was expected to be in place in ten minutes. The hotel and government building are nowhere near each other. Why would he communicate to his own agency one thing and then do something else entirely? It was almost as though he didn't trust—"

The three-star stopped talking and turned back to the screen, where the Syrian security forces were still screaming from the balcony of the sniper's nest.

Then the three-star glanced back at Bracken with a suspicious look.

Bracken looked over at the DHS director and found his gaze boring into him as well.

Bracken started to say something and then stopped. All he could do was stare at the screens.

The three-star said, "But the kill was still made. Under the, um, unusual circumstances I'd say that was the finest hit I've ever, well, not seen."

"Same for me," said the DHS director.

"And me," added Villante lamely, which drew a long glare from Bracken.

"Castle and Beckett deserve this country's thanks," said the three-star firmly.

The DHS director added, "And we'll see that they get it."

"If they get out of Syria," said the three-star darkly.

If they get out of Syria alive, thought Bracken.

* * *

Other than North Korea and Iran, Syria was arguably the most difficult country in the world to escape from for a westerner.

Foreigners were inherently suspect.

Americans were hated.

American operatives who had just killed a potential Syrian leader were good for only one thing: execution and then being dragged through the streets headless.

The only positive element was that Syria's borders were not secure. They were flimsy and ever-changing, just as the politics of the moment were, in one of the countries constituting the "cradle of civilization."

Castle and Beckett understood this fully.

They had a chance, a slender one.

Beckett had delivered the kill shot from a building across the street from where Samoor had been about to get into his limo. It would have been easier to don a full burqa face covering and escape that way. However, Syrian women didn't wear traditional Islamic garb for the most part. And full facial veils had been banned in universities and other public settings by the increasingly secular government, who felt it was a security risk and promoted extremism. Thus putting one on would have been a red flag, not a disguise.

But she could still wear a hijab. This would reveal part of her face, but she had stained it darker and simulated wrinkles and sun damage. And in the long black robe she had incorporated a harness and padding that added about sixty pounds to her frame. She stooped as she walked and looked as though she were about seventy.

She picked up a market basket and left the room, waiting patiently at the elevator with another man who was standing there. The elevator doors opened and she got into the car. It headed down. When it reached the ground floor she stepped off.

She was swept to the side as police flooded the building. They grabbed the man who had been in the elevator car with her and pulled him, as well as several other Syrian men, along with them. They stormed into the elevator and up the stairwell.

Kate waited for a few moments and then continued on. When she got outside, police cars were everywhere. Swarms of people were screaming. People were crying. Others were marching in the streets, chanting.

A car caught on fire. Guns were racked back and fired into the air. Shop windows were smashed. There was a small explosion down the street.

Kate followed another group of women down the street and into an alley.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been unthinkable for men to search a woman on a Syrian public street.

These were not normal circumstances.

Police swept into the alley and started grabbing everyone, pulling at their clothing, looking for weapons or other signs of culpability.

One man had a knife. The police shot him in the head.

A woman ran screaming. She was repeatedly shot in the back and dropped to the pavement with blood pouring from multiple wounds.

The police were now closing in on Kate. She didn't look like an assassin. She looked like a fat old woman. But the police apparently didn't care. They were only a few feet from her as she backed away.

Her hand reached inside her basket.

They were just about to surround her, their guns drawn and pointed at her.

Her back was against a brick wall. One of the police reached out to grab her arm. Once they saw the padding, it would all be over. They would shoot her right on the spot.

The loud voice reached to the alley.

The police stopped, turned.

The voice yelled out again and again. In Arabic it said, "We have the shooter! We have the shooter!"

The police turned and ran back down the alley toward the voice.

The crowd closed in on Kate. Sobbing people bent down to the dead bodies.

Kate pushed backward, away from the crowd, and managed to ease into a sliver of a side alley.

She walked quickly down it and reached another street, a busy thoroughfare. A taxi pulled up to the curb and she climbed in.

"Where to?" the bearded driver asked in Arabic.

"I think you know," she said in English.

Castle hit the gas and the cab sped off.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. "Close?"

"Close enough," she said.

She pulled the remote from her basket and held it up. "This came in handy. Once they find the source of the 'We have the shooter' voice they won't be happy."

"A little boom box in the street never hurts," said Castle.

As they rounded a turn she tossed the remote out the window.

He looked in the rearview mirror again and saw the crowds spilling into the streets behind them. "They'll know the shooter got away. So we're not free and clear yet."

"Face it, Castle, we'll never be free and clear again."

"They found the sniper's nest. Even though you didn't fire from it."

"Big surprise. But at least it validates what Gates told us about the double cross."

"I wonder how they felt back in the ops room watching?"

"One of my greatest regrets in life will be missing the looks on their faces. Especially Bracken's."

He turned right and then left and sped up again. Traffic was lighter now. But Castle could envision roadblocks being set up right this minute.

Damascus to Israel was a short trip, but that would be the exit the Syrians would be expecting. And also the one designed by the CIA. So that option was out.

The trip to Amman, Jordan, was a little over a hundred miles. But the border between the two countries had been strengthened, with limited crossing points. So that was also out.

Iraq was to the east. It was a long border with many ways across. But neither Castle nor Beckett saw much advantage in sneaking across the northern border of Iraq. They would most likely die there.

That left one option. Turkey, to the north. It was also a long border, hundreds of miles. The closest major Turkish city was Mersin, about 150 miles distant. It was still dangerous, but Castle wanted to put greater distance between them and the Syrians than the finger of Turkish land provided.

But they had to get there first.

And though the border had many holes in it, Syria and Turkey were also informally skirmishing with each other. Bombs dropped from planes and guns fired by roving packs of soldiers were becoming the standard of the day around the border. Plus there was a lot of illegal activity involving the trafficking of drugs, immigrants, guns, and other contraband through the region. And the criminals typically had one response to pesky witnesses.

They killed them.

"On to Turkey," said Castle.

"On to Turkey," she parroted back.

She didn't take off her disguise. Not yet. She had papers, in case they were stopped. She had to hope they would be good enough.

As Castle looked up ahead, he knew they were about to be tested.

He had shaved his head, grown a trim beard, and stained his entire body darker. His blue eyes were hidden by tinted contacts. He could speak Arabic fluently, with none of the accent of a westerner. Kate, he knew, could as well.

The checkpoint had been set up quickly, faster than Castle had thought possible. He wondered if the double cross had anything to do with that.

Security checkpoints were far more frenetic in the Middle East than in other parts of the world, barely controlled chaos where guns were pulled at the slightest misstatement or an ill-timed glance.

Castle slowed his taxi to a stop. There were three cars and a truck in front of his. The guards were searching vehicles, and Castle saw one of them with a glossy piece of paper in his hand.

"They have our photo," he said.

"Of course they do. Fortunately, we don't look like that anymore."

The guards reached the taxi. One of them yelled at Castle. He produced his papers and the man carefully examined them. Another guard poked his head in the back window and yelled at Kate. She kept her eyes down, showed her papers, and spoke deferentially. He looked in her basket and found a chunk of bread, a bag of nuts, a jar of honey, and a bottle of spices.

The car was searched and nothing out of the ordinary was found.

The first guard gave Castle a searching look and even tugged on Castle's short beard. It remained firmly attached to his face. Castle cried out in pain and the man laughed and then yelled at him to continue through the checkpoint.

Castle put the car in gear and drove on.

They cleared Damascus and Castle pointed them north.

Nearly two hundred miles later they arrived on the outskirts of Aleppo, Syria's largest city by population. It was dark now and they managed to slip into Aleppo without incident.

They had arranged for a safe house there. They changed, ate, and rested up for the second leg of their journey.

The next morning they climbed aboard bikes and started off with a touring group that would cycle through northern Syria to the Turkish border fifty miles away. The trip would normally take three days, a leisurely affair through ancient ruins and beautiful countryside.

They continued on to Turkey, making their border crossing in the middle of the night. They watched military aircraft soaring overhead and dropping bombs, which destroyed targets on the ground. Gunfire also sounded during the night, but they ignored it, pushing ahead.

Two days later they biked into the outskirts of Mersin.

A day later they ferried across the Mediterranean to Greece, and from there they flew west. They landed in the United States a week after Ahmadi's bloodied body hit the pavement in Damascus.

As soon as they reached America, Castle made a phone call. "We're coming in," he said. "Get the champagne ready." And then he clicked off.

William Bracken slowly put down the phone.


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer** : I do not own anything. All rights are owned by ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

 **Content Disclaimer** : This story contains mature themes such as violence and death. Please be warned

* * *

"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."

― **Frank Herbert**

* * *

Nearly every ceremony by the CIA were held in secret. That was the nature of the beast. This one was particularly so.

It involved the Special Activities Division of the CIA's National Clandestine Service. They were the best of the best, running around the world doing the bidding of the United States either with a gun or by inserting themselves in the riskiest settings for purposes of intelligence gathering. They were the most clandestine special ops force in America, if not the world. Most of the members came from the military elite.

Most, but not all.

The ceremony was held in an underground room at the agency's installation at a camp in Williamsburg, Virginia. It seemed appropriate that the event was below ground, in the shadows, and unknown to the rest of the world.

In attendance along with about two dozen others were William Bracken, APNSA Villante, the three-star, and the DHS director, who had watched the events unfolding in Damascus. And Gates.

Castle and Kate were each awarded the Distinguished Intelligence Cross, the highest award given out by the CIA. It was analogous to the Medal of Honor and was usually given after death. It was only bestowed for extraordinary heroism in highly dangerous conditions.

Bracken read off the citation listing their achievements not only in Syria but also in New York. And then Kate and Castle came forward to accept their medals.

As Bracken presented the medal to Kate he hissed, "This is not over yet."

"Clearly not," she said.

When Villante gave the medal to Castle he whispered, "You need to choose sides on this, Castle."

"So do you," Castle replied. "And choose wisely."

Castle and Kate walked out of the ceremony together. Outside, they were greeted by Gates.

"Thanks for the heads-up," Castle said quietly.

"Just doing my duty."

"Bracken isn't taking this too well."

"Hard to say how much longer he'll be heading up the agency," replied Gates.

"Days numbered?"

"They might be. He hasn't been that stellar as the head."

"You might want to consider the job."

Gates shook her head. "No thanks. I'm broken down enough as it is."

Castle and Kate drove out of the camp and headed north. Neither of them spoke because neither had anything to say. The last couple of weeks had pushed them right to their maximum. They were both physically and mentally exhausted.

When they arrived back in D.C., Castle surprised her by saying, "I've got someone I want you to meet."

He drove to the building and parked at the curb. About ten minutes later people started coming out of the building carrying large backpacks.

When Castle saw her he got out of the car and waved her over. Alexis Rodgers approached cautiously.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"First you complain when I don't come by, and now you complain when I do?"

Alexis glanced in the car. "Who's that?"

"Get in and you'll find out."

"Kevin Ryan is coming to pick me up."

"No he's not. I already phoned him and told him I was."

They climbed in the car and Castle said, "Alexis, Katherine; Kate, Alexis."

The two women nodded at each other and then both looked questioningly at Castle as he steered the car into traffic.

"Where are we going?" asked Kate.

"An early dinner."

Alexis looked at Kate but she merely shrugged.

Castle drove them to a restaurant in Arlington. As they sat down to eat, Alexis said to Kate, "How do you know Castle?"

"Just a friend."

"Do you work together?"

"Sometimes."

"I know what he does," she said bluntly.

Kate said, "So you know he can be a real pain in the ass, then?"

Alexis sat back and a grin spread across her face. "I think I like you." She looked at Castle. "Where is super agent Shaw?"

"Doing super agent things, I imagine," replied Castle.

Alexis turned back to Kate. "So you do what he does?"

Kate bit into a roll. "We both do things a little differently."

Castle said, "How's school going?"

"Fine. What have you two been up to?"

"This and that," said Castle.

"I read the news. I know what's been going on in the world. Have you two been overseas lately?"

"Not lately, no," said Kate.

"You lie as well as he does."

"Is that bad?"

"No. I admire people who can lie well. I do it all the time."

"I think I like you," said Kate.

Castle put a hand on her arm. "I screwed up before, Alexis. I won't again."

"So does this mean you'll come by sometimes?"

"Yes, it does."

"With her?"

"That's up to Kate."

Alexis looked at her.

"I can do that," Kate said slowly, glancing uncertainly at Castle.

After dinner, they dropped Alexis off at home. She gave them both hugs. Kate awkwardly hugged her back and then watched Alexis climb the steps to her house.

As soon as Castle drove off, Kate said, "What the hell was that all about?"

"What? Having a meal with someone?"

"People like us don't have meals with...normal people."

"Why not? Is that somewhere in the agency manual?"

"We just took down a terrorist leader, Castle. And barely escaped. We could just as easily be in a hole somewhere in Syria with our heads cut off. You don't just sit down to a meal with a teenager and shoot the shit after that."

"I used to think that too."

"What do you mean, 'used to'?"

"I mean I used to think that way too. But I don't anymore."

"I don't understand you."

Castle drove to the next intersection, took a right, braked hard at the curb, and got out. Kate did too. They looked at each other over the roof of the car.

"I can't keep doing this job and cut off the rest of the world around me, Kate. It can't be an either/or. I have to live a life. At least a little bit."

"That thing back there with the kid? What if someone followed you there? What kind of life might she have then?"

"Our side already knows about Kate. And I take precautions. But I can't protect everybody every minute of every day. She could step out in front of a bus and be just as dead as if someone had shot her."

"That is a baseless argument at best."

"Well, it's my argument. And my life." He paused. "Are you telling me you didn't enjoy meeting her?"

"No. She seems like a great kid."

"She is a great kid. I want to be part of her life."

"You can't do that. We can't be part of anyone's life. Our friends end up dead because of us."

"I refuse to accept that."

"It's not up to you, is it?" she snapped.

"Then let's walk away from this shit. Start over."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm being serious."

She looked at him, saw that this was true. "I don't think I can walk away, Castle."

"Why not?"

"Because this is who I am. This is what I do. If I stopped..."

"It seemed you were prepared to stop when all this happened."

"That was revenge. I never looked past that. If you want the truth, I never thought I would survive it."

"But you did. We both did."

They both lapsed into silence.

She rested her arms on the roof of the car. "I didn't think anything would ever scare me, Castle." She exhaled a long breath. "But this does."

"It's not like a hit where you think about every single detail. You don't really think, you just execute. This, this you really have to think about."

"And one and one don't necessarily make two."

"Almost never make two," he amended.

"So how do you make sense out of it?"

"You can't."

Kate looked up. The rain had started falling after several days of dry weather. It was gloomy, depressing; even objects in the near distance were hard to make out.

As the rain picked up, neither of them made a move to get into the car. In about a minute they were soaked, but they just stood there.

"I'm not sure I can live like that, Castle."

"I'm not sure either. But I think we have to try."

Kate glanced down at her pocket. She pulled out the Distinguished Intelligence Cross and looked at it.

"Did you ever in a million years think you would get one of these?"

"No."

"We got this for killing a man."

"We got this for doing our job."

She dropped the medal back into her pocket and looked at him. "But this is not a job you walk away from."

"There aren't many who have."

"I'd rather leave it all in the field."

"From the look of the world right now, you might get your wish."

She looked away. "When Viola and Royce were alive I knew I had at least two people who would mourn me. Who were my friends. That was important to me."

"Well, now you have me."

She stared back at him. "Do I? Really?"

"Close your eyes," he said.

"What?"

"Close your damn eyes."

"Castle!"

"Just do it."

She closed her eyes as the rain continued to fall.

A minute passed.

She finally reopened them.

Richard Castle was still there.

He had moved around the car and now stood in front of her. The rain had started to fall even harder and they could only make out their faces. Castle slowly placed his hand on her face and brushed away the wet hair that had lumped together on her cheeks. He slowly planted a kiss on her temple and let her place her head on his chest.

They stood there oblivious to the downpour of rain and the people walking by them in confusion.

"You promise you'll be there no matter what?" Kate whispered not moving her head from Castle's chest.

"Always."

* * *

 **Personal Note:** And that's all folks! I hope you enjoyed reading this and liked the little twist with Perlmutter being the one pulling the strings for some other people. I wanted Bracken to be the one in Perlmutter's place, but that would have been too obvious in my opinion. Nearly every story on here has the antagonist being Bracken and that's fine, but I wanted to do something a bit different from the canon story. The plot of this story revolved around the episode 'Linchpin' and as you can tell I really liked the premise of the episode. I wanted to expand on that premise in as much detail and realism as possible. A lot of people messaged me that I didn't have a romantic element in this story and did a bad job in writing parts where there was intimacy. I apologize for that. I am still an amateur writer and writing intimate scenes is probably my greatest weakness in terms of writing. Another complaint that I got was the lack of other characters (aka Lanie, Esposito, Ryan etc) in this story and honestly I wanted this story to revolve strictly around Castle and Beckett. And that I think that was enough otherwise each chapter would have been over 10,000 words!

It was fun writing this story and Thank you to the people who reviewed, Favorited, and followed this story. I truly appreciate that and it was nice knowing that some people cared enough to read this story full of plot holes. As for now I think I am gonna a break from writing and concentrate on my college education (Engineering is really hard omg!).

A sequel? I'll think about it ;)


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